


i'll tell you what we're gonna do (you will shelter me, my love, and i will shelter you)

by kittymannequin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward teacher/guitarist Lexa, Eventual Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hot doctor/occasional artist Clarke, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Music, Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, POV Second Person, Pining, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, lexa's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymannequin/pseuds/kittymannequin
Summary: What's an awkward, smitten Lexa to do when the beautiful Clarke Griffin stumbles into her life and trips her whole world upside down? Well, pine, of course.What else is there to do when Clarke Griffin also comes with an extension in the form of a certain boyfriend?





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a warm Friday evening, late in the summer, when you see her for the first time.

You’re on the makeshift dance floor ‘cause yet again you let Anya drag you to a party you really didn’t wanna be at, and then she even managed to get you in the mess of sweaty, inebriated bodies with a promise of lots of free booze afterwards.

A flash of blonde hair catches your attention when you turn your head away from the creepy guy staring at you from the corner of the room and, even though you’re trying your hardest to pay as little attention as possible to everyone around you, when she turns around and you get a glimpse of her face you can finally say you’ve found a face to match the definition of ethereal you’d once looked up in the dictionary all those years ago.

You wish you’d looked up the synonyms as well.

She doesn’t see you looking at her and you’re torn between disappointment and relief when she turns back around and you’re once again met with blonde hair. You kind of wished she’d glanced in your direction and at least shared a look with you, but then again you are just standing there, staring like a complete creeper and that’s probably not the brightest of things you’ve done in your life. 

You still almost growl a moment later when Anya tugs on your arm and drags you away through the crowd and out into the large yard. The blonde is long out of sight by the time you reach the bonfire next to the terrace. 

“Here you go.” Anya mumbles and hands you a beer, pulling you down to sit next to her on a make-do wooden bench that’s essentially a giant log, one of a few placed around the fire. “You look like you need it.”

You open your mouth to say something, to reply that the only thing you need right now is to go back in there and find the blonde that’s got your mind all twisty and blurred from just one look, but before you can even form any words, a brunette girl saunters over, plops down next to Anya and within seconds you find yourself being a third wheel without so much as a ‘sorry’ from her.

It’s not really surprising, if you’re being honest with yourself.

Your sister’s always been like this, carefree and always going for what she wants, but she’s the closest you’ve ever let anyone be - besides Costia, of course - and you’ve grown used to her behaviour and much like before, it doesn’t really bother you that much.

So you just take a sip of your beer and quietly slip away when she’s not paying attention. 

As you make your way over to the small gathering of people on the other side of the yard, you wonder what is it you’re actually doing here ‘cause you have no idea whose party it is and why Anya’s dragged you here. You remember her mentioning some Bellamy guy whose house this apparently is, so it’s probably his party, but how she knows him and why you’re here is beyond you.

It doesn’t matter though, ‘cause you have your ways of disappearing in a crowd and it’s not too long before you find yourself wandering the large house in search of some better entertainment than strangers making out and creepy drunk guys ogling your from afar. You get enough of those kinds of looks at work from men who think they’re above you, or those who fear you, and you prefer to spend your free time doing more pleasurable things.

You meander for a while, maybe an hour or so, just wasting time and trying to figure out how long it would take you to walk back to your flat because you’ve been drinking and you don’t wanna sit behind the wheel like this and judging by the way Anya’s looking at the same brunette that sat beside her an hour ago, you’re pretty sure she’s not gonna be going home any time soon. Or at all.

A girl or two approach you and it’s something that you’re used to. You know you’ve been blessed with good looks, you’re not exactly blind, and you do have a somewhat commanding presence wherever you go. But tonight you just want to blend in and disappear in the crowd so you don’t really bother too much, just talking lazily and feigning the smallest bit of attention, knowing that soon enough, they’ll get the hint and move along. 

Eventually, they do and with your third beer slowly kicking in, you stumble outside again, a little stunned at the size of the backyard now that you’ve actually taken it in. You weren’t expecting it to be so big, despite the fact that the house itself is rather large and you’re pretty sure there’s at least four bedrooms upstairs and probably two or three bathrooms. They’re a big family, you suppose.

As you make your way across the yard again, ignoring the slowly dying bonfire and stumbling slightly along the way with your feet not quite paying attention to what your brain wants, you barely manage to avoid hitting a tree and walk around it - apologizing profusely for ten seconds before you actually realize it’s a tree you’re apologizing to - until you reach your destination, a small bench in the far corner of the yard, somewhat hidden underneath another large tree that you make sure not to apologize to.

You fall down on it more than you actually sit, swinging the bottle and taking another sip, and you’re sorely grateful that the crowd’s mostly inside by now and nobody had to witness your little dance across the yard.

“That was rather impressive.” Comes a woman’s voice from behind you, warm and husky.

Of course someone had to see you and the kind of drunken clutz you can be. It’d be damn near impossible for life to spare you some embarrassment. 

She slides down on the bench far more gracefully than you have and when you tilt your head to see who it is, you make the briefest mental note to curse all the gods you can think of tomorrow because this just isn’t fair. It had to be her. Of course it did. Why would the universe ever be even remotely nice to you, when it can poke and prod and have you make a fool of yourself in front of literally the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. 

You manage to save absolutely none of your dignity as you look away and lunge forward, spitting out the beer and coughing maniacally when the bottle falls down and rolls away. 

“Wow, that is not a reaction I generally get when meeting new people.” The blonde mumbles form the side and the teasing tone in her husky voice makes your insides twist but then you feel her hand sliding over your shoulder and her finger moving over your shoulder-blades in soothing, gentle circles, and your insides twist in a whole other way. 

You finally catch yourself and get the coughing under control and when you deftly pull out a handkerchief from the back pocket of your jeans and wipe the beer off your face and hands, you can literally feel your heart thundering in your chest when she starts laughing.

“Are you okay though?” She asks softly, leaning closer as her eyes settle onto yours.

You’re sort of instantly torn between being pissed of and grateful for the warm breeze that’s blowing past you when the smell of her perfume hits your senses. It’s a little overwhelming, to be honest, and you’re thrown somewhere way back in the past, when you were a child and your dad used to bring you with him on his walks around the park and you’d stop and smell every single beautiful flower you could.

She smells like memories. The best ones.

First summer at the beach, the way the sun warms you up on a cold winter’s day, smell of morning coffee and the feeling of falling into your bed late at night when you can hardly keep your eyes open. She smells like flowers in spring and pumpkin spice latte in late autumn.

And you’re oh so fucked ‘cause she’s barely spoken three sentences and you’ve already managed to trip and fall into the abyss of emotions you’ll most certainly garner for this unearthly beauty. 

“I-I’m alright.” You finally manage to mumble out after a few seconds of excruciatingly awkward silence, wondering when exactly had you managed to develop a stutter. Pretty girls have always had a tendency of rendering you speechless but this woman is not just a pretty girl, she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever had the joy of seeing and you’re pretty sure your brain’s been short-circuiting ever since you’d first laid eyes on her back inside.

It would explain all of that’s happened tonight, certainly. 

She doesn’t say anything at first, simply staring at you with a curious look until her lips curl in a soft smile and she pulls back, leaning against the bench. 

“That’s good, you had me worried for a second there.” She runs her hand once more over your shoulder before slipping it away and settling it on her lap. 

“You just caught me off guard.” You mumble quietly, glancing to her every few moments, still getting used to the fact this beauty is actually sitting next to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I saw you walking across the yard and I wanted to make sure you were doing ok so I came over.” She says with a smile still on her lips and crosses her legs, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve had my fair share of drunken escapades so I always make sure people don’t hurt themselves.” She chuckles. “I guess it’s second nature.” 

“Nothing hurt.” You sigh and lean back, throwing your arm over your head to cover your eyes in shame. “Nothing but my pride.” 

She laughs out and again your heart thrums against your ribcage at the sound. Hearing it forever wouldn’t be enough, you realize then and there, all cliches be damned. 

“It actually wasn’t that bad.” She murmurs and lightly kicks your leg with her foot. “You just looked like you were trying to do some strange kind of rain dance or something and then when you started apologizing to the tree-”

“Oh my god.” You groan out loudly, throwing your other arm over your head in an attempt to completely cover your face. You still can’t believe this whole thing even happened to you, though you’re not even remotely surprised that of all people, it just had to be her who’d see it all.

“It was hilarious.” She chuckles and you feel her hand land on your leg as she tries to shake it and get you to look at her. “Come on, it was funny. You’re drunk, nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, I’ve done far worse things.” 

You groan again just to make it clear that you’re beyond just being embarrassed but you pull your arms away and tilt your head to peek at her for a moment, deciding that it was certainly not one of your best ideas because her face is mesmerizing and now you can’t seem to look away. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sure the maple has forgiven you for running into it.” She smirks, the corners of her lips curled in the most teasing of ways. 

You can’t help it when your bottom lip juts out in a pout and your eyebrows scrunch up in a deep frown at her words, although you’re pretty sure you look more like a five-year-old, rather than a grown woman in her late twenties. She’s laughing again and gods, you’ll frown so hard and so long until it actually sticks and your face just ends up being one giant grimace, if it’ll have her laughing like this. 

“That is just adorable.” She mumbles out through the laughter and leans over, trying to compose herself. 

“I am not adorable.” You nearly growl, though your cheeks are itching with the need to smile because your chest feels full and warm and your heart’s pounding and fuck, she’s just so damn beautiful. 

“You so are.” She chuckles once more before reaching out. “The name’s Clarke. Clarke Griffin.” 

You don’t remember the last time you were so nervous to shake someone’s hand. It feels like your whole body’s on fire and you’re buzzing with excitement and just a pinch of that wonderfully invigorating fear. But you manage to smirk nonetheless and take her hand in yours, feeling literal explosions of sparks erupting where her skin meets yours. 

It’s magic, really. There’s no other way you could possibly describe this. 

Her hand is so soft and warmer than you’d expected and her grip firm and sure. It takes you a little off guard when she doesn’t pull it back immediately but lingers for a few moments longer, and you tear your eyes away from your joined hands to look into her eyes, only to find her staring at you expectantly.

She quirks an eyebrow just as her lips curl into that mind-bogglingly gorgeous smirk.

“And you are?” She murmurs, letting the question hang in the air. 

Of course. Your streak of making a fool of yourself continues because once again she’s rendered you speechless, just as you’ve managed to recuperate from the last time, and you seem to have forgotten how exactly is your mouth supposed to move to form your own name. Also, you’ve just been sitting there, holding her hand what is probably the most awkward thing she’s experienced tonight because apparently, you don’t do introductions like normal human beings do.

“Uh,” You start, mentally slapping yourself into oblivion before you stutter, “It’s Lexa. Lexa Woods.” 

Her eyes are warm as the smirk on her face morphs into a gentle smile and she nods faintly before finally releasing your hand. You really wish she hadn’t. 

“Hi Lexa, the tree whisperer.” She teases and well, all you can really do is laugh, right? 

So you laugh with your shoulders lightly shaking and your eyes closed as you tip your head back. “Ha-ha, very funny.” You grumble before turning to her. “It’s a pleasure, Clarke. Truly.” 

She bumps your shoulder with her own as she settles more comfortably and crosses her legs. “Likewise Lexa.” 

It’s silent for a few moments and if it was anyone else sitting there beside you, you’re sure it would feel at least a little awkward. But somehow, with this girl that’s nothing more than a complete stranger - a very beautiful, breathtakingly gorgeous stranger - it feels familiar and completely at ease. 

“So how do you know Bellamy?” She asks in a quiet voice after a minute or two of silence. 

“Who?” You’re fairly sure the name should sound familiar, maybe it would if she wasn’t sitting so close and you could smell her perfume and her thigh wasn’t pressed so close to yours. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you’re supposed to remember the name and the person but right now, all your brain can remember is the colour of her hair and the shades of blue in her eyes.

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes her and you turn to her, only to be met with flushed cheeks and her hand on her mouth as she’s trying her hardest to somehow simultaneously hide in embarrassment and not laugh at your ignorance. 

Your lips quirk up in a smirk. “You just snorted.” You point out bluntly, barely suppressing the laughter bubbling inside your chest.

“That is so not what’s important right now.” She mumbles out quickly, swatting at your shoulder. “What’s important is that you don’t even know Bellamy!” She turns around to fully face you, pulling her legs up on the bench and crossing them so her knees are brushing up against the outside of your thigh. “How do you not know Bell?” 

You shrug. “My sister dragged me here ‘cause I-” You do the air-quotes with a roll of your eyes, much to Clarke’s amusement-” Never get out of my flat.” 

“Well do you?” 

You sigh slowly. “I just don’t really like crowds all that much.” 

Her lips curl in a soft smile as she places her hand on your leg. “That’s okay. Just to fill you in though, this is Bell’s house and his girlfriend’s the party organizer. It’s actually his birthday, well, it was like three days ago but you know, work and parties on a Tuesday night don’t really go well…” She trails off, turning a little to glance over her shoulder. “And a lot of people inside are a rowdy bunch.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You murmur, barely aware of anything that’s going on around you beside the fact that her hand is still on your leg. “How do you know Bellamy?” You’re kind of dreading what she has to say because she could just say she’s the girlfriend and you really don’t wanna deal with that, not now, not ever, to be honest.

“He’s my best friend’s brother and a really good friend of mine.” She explains and moves her hand, reaching inside her pocket and swiftly pulling out her phone. Moments later she’s showing you a picture of a guy with curly brown hair and a girl with fierce eyes and dark brown hair. “Bell and Octavia, the famous Blake twins.” 

“Never heard of them.” You tease, grinning when she swats at your shoulder once more. 

“So I’m guessing you have no idea how your best friend knows Bell then? I mean, it’s not that it really matters, I’m just trying to connect the dots here.” She explains and you think she might just be a little nervous around you, feeling up the air and trying to get to know you, but then again, it might just be your imagination and all your hope clouding your mind.

“Well, actually, this whole thing was my best friend’s idea it’s just, my sister had more patience and persistence to actually drag me here.” Clarke’s looking at you with a grin and you’re still trying to think what words are supposed to sound like. “Actually, come to think of it, I may have heard of Octavia.” You say, holding your chin between your thumb and your forefinger, much to Clarke’s amusement.

“How so?” 

“Well, my best friend happens to be dating her.”

“Wait. Linc’s your best friend?” Clarke looks a little confused. “Man, the world is really a small place. How have we not met by now, they’ve been together-” Clarke’s laughing again and you join her within seconds when you realize what she’s said.

“Since forever, I know.” You quip in.

Clarke laughs even louder. “Exactly. So how come we’ve never actually met? I mean, I’ve been to his place a couple of times with Octavia and I’ve never seen you there.”

“I don’t really get out a lot and when I do, it’s work related so…”

“Ah. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then.” 

You smile, desperately wanting to lean in closer because it feels like her presence is just pulling you in. “Likewise.”

“But wait, then…” Clarke gasps before continuing. “You’re Anya’s sister!” 

You grin. “Yup.” 

“Oh my god, please tell me you know something about her and Raven!” 

“Raven?” 

“Oh my god. Lexa.” Clarke groans and squeezes your leg. “Raven, my best friend, and your sister are totally… Well I don’t know, something.” 

You raise an eyebrow at her. “I have absolutely no idea who Raven is.” 

Clarke glances over her shoulder quickly, trying to locate someone, before turning back to you. “The brunette sitting next to your sister by the bonfire. Raven.”

Well, now it definitely makes more sense why Anya was actually smiling when the girl approached the both of your earlier this evening. Now a lot of things actually make much more sense. “Oh my god. I should have known.” 

Clarke’s laughing again. “You were totally oblivious and Anya’s your sister.” 

“Unlike my sister, I’m not really interested in her love life.” You tease. “Anya has a tendency to stick her nose in my business more often than not.” 

Clarke chuckles. “Well, I can see why Raven has a thing for her. She’s got this whole tough, serious and hot chick look going for her.”

You don’t bother stopping the laughter that falls from your lips. “That’s strangely very accurate.” 

“I know, right?” 

You straighten your back a little, eyeing her carefully before you decide to be just a little bolder than usual. “What look do I have going for me?” 

“I’d go with the confused tree whisperer.” 

A groan escapes you before you can stop yourself. “You just had to bring that up again, didn’t you?” 

She’s laughing and you couldn’t mind the teasing even if you tried. 

“Sorry, it was just so funny.” She winks at you. “But you know, you could easily pull off the whole tough chick look as well, I’m pretty sure of that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Definitely. Bit more eyeliner, black ripped jeans, leather jacket and you’re set.” 

The laughter that’s been waiting to come out of you finally does as you nearly fall over when you lean forward, clutching at your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, is that your usual look?” 

A minute later you’re back to your previous state, running a hand through your hair and trying to reign in on your emotions and your laughter.

“Depends.” You murmur. 

“On what?” 

“What time of day it is.” You chuckle at the confused look on her face. “I play in a band.” You huff out. “Lead guitar, all leather jackets and ripped jeans. Oh and you forgot about raybans.” 

She hides her face in the palm of her hand and you barely understand a word she’s saying when she starts mumbling a few seconds later. 

“I should have known.” She looks up from behind her hand, eyes meeting yours again. “You do have this whole broody thing going on.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch up in a frown. “I do not.” 

“Oh you so do.” She waves a finger in the general direction of your face. “Out here all alone, kind of with this whole hot mess aura, mysterious, a bit dejected… Totally working the whole broody hot mess thing.” 

You smirk, unable to stop the words before they slip out. “Oh so you think I’m hot?” 

The throaty chuckles that rolls off her lips will be the death of you. 

“Well, I’m not blind, Lexa. I’m sure you garner a lot of attention wherever you show up, especially when you’re going with the rockstar guitarist look.” One side of her lips quirks up in a smug smile that has your brain all fuzzy and you’re really finding it hard to come up with anything to say. Luckily, she continues and you’re more than happy to just listen. “Any day jobs?” 

“Guitar teacher.” You murmur and her smile almost instantly morphs into the softest one you’ve seen so far and you’re pretty sure this one’s lodged itself in the very centre of your heart. 

You’re so gay.

“Mhm, yeah, you’re definitely too much of a softie to be a hardcore rocker chick.” Clarke teases and this time it’s you swatting at her shoulder. “That’s really great though Lexa. Sounds nice.” 

You lean on your side a little, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your elbow settles at the back of the bench. “What about you?” 

She returns your smile with a matching one. “I’m a doctor.” 

You’re not even surprised, in all honesty. This simply confirms your belief that she’s absolutely perfect in every aspect and you are, in fact, sitting next to an actual goddess that’s fallen from the sky right onto your bench. 

“That’s wonderful.” You hum, reveling in the light blush dusting on her cheeks. 

“It’s nothing special. Plenty people are doctors.” She shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world to be a doctor and you’re even more stumped.

Really, did she actually fall from the sky? 

“I always wanted to do something, you know? Change things, help others, do what I can for people who can’t help themselves.” Her voice is a little more quiet than it has been so far but it’s so,  _ so _ warm. “My mom’s a doctor too and I guess I followed in her footsteps?” 

You nod and she continues.

“I love it though. It was hard getting where I am but god, Lexa, it’s so rewarding to see a smile on someone’s face when you come out of an eight hour-long surgery to tell them their wife will get to live to be thirty.” 

There’s tears prickling at your eyes and it takes all you have not to let them fall. You know it would only be human to cry about something so emotional, but really, you’ve embarrassed yourself enough for one night. 

“That’s truly amazing, Clarke, I’m sure.” 

She’s got a smile on her lips and her cheeks are still tinged pink but she’s looking at you with a look you can’t read and well fuck, you’re addicted to her eyes, the way there are little freckles of gold and green in them, they way that silly little stray hair is falling atop of them and you’re itching to just reach out and push it away and maybe you just should. 

“Hey babe, I’ve been looking all over for you! There you are.” 

In exactly one second your world tips over and you’re falling in the abyss again only this time, the churning in your belly aren’t butterflies and the clenching in your chest makes you want to puke out that stupid heart of yours. 

From the corner of your eye you notice him leaning over on her side and pressing a kiss to her cheek as her lips widen in a tight-lipped smile when his arms fall around her form and he pulls her closer. It’s kind of strained, just a little bit stifling and you’re pretty sure cuddling someone shouldn’t look so forced. He’s good-looking, seems kind enough and you think maybe it’s okay that it’s not you.

You know tomorrow will be hard though. Because it’s not you.

And possibly the next couple of days until you’ve drunk enough to push her out of your mind.

“Lexa, this is Finn.” Clarke smiles as the man offers his hand and you shake it, barely managing to spare him a look. “What’s up babe?” 

“Raven and Octavia have been looking for you, something about a game of pool they just can’t win without you?” He mumbles close to her ear and those pleasant shivers you’ve been feeling so far are replaced with something deeply uncomfortable.

Something you haven’t felt in a while, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Ah, the usual.” Clarke murmurs before she’s pushing herself off the bench and circling around it with her hand in his. “Well, Lexa of the Woods clan,” She smirks at her own joke and your heart clenches in your chest again and god,  _ god does it hurt _ , “I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Sure thing, Clarke.” You manage to mumble before they’re both turning around and walking away. 

You really should have known better. 

Pretty girls don’t just fall from the sky and into your arms. Pretty girls do, however, usually come with a boyfriend. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa runs into some trouble. Or vice versa, really.

You just can’t get her out of your head and you’re going insane.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve met Clarke, two weeks of pure agony as her face appears the second you close your eyes for a moment and the sound of her voice still fills your ears even though you’ve already gone out three times in these two weeks and not even the loudest club music has managed to dull out that gorgeous voice of hers. 

You thought it’d be the same as it always is: you meet a pretty girl, you fall for her, the pretty girl turns out to either be dating someone or straight - you don’t actually know that about Clarke and you’re smart enough not to assume - and your heart gets fucked even before you’ve actually given it a proper chance to feel. 

It’s getting kinda old, if you’re being honest with yourself. 

It didn’t help in the least bit that you actually made yourself go out and find someone to take the edge off with. Sure, she’s blonde too, and her eyes might be blue if you squint hard enough, but fuck - she’s just not Clarke. And you don’t know why you’re so hung up on this woman, so enchanted and thirsty for someone you’ve hardly spoken for twenty minutes to. 

You hate your stupid heart and that stupid wall you’ve built around it that seems to have just collapsed in the face of Clarke Griffin.

Yup, you asked around. You had to. You had the urge to know everything and anything there is to know about the wondrous woman that’s got you under her spell, and she’s so much more than she’s actually told you. 

She’s really smart, you managed to find out. One of the youngest brain surgeons in the country, already has her own research programme and there isn’t a hospital in sight that’s not trying to get her to sign over. Not to mention, she’s a real humanitarian. Clarke spent two years somewhere deep in Africa as part of ‘Doctors Without Borders’ and it’s simply awe-inspiring how magnificent, and yet so humble, she actually is. 

You wish you’d never gone to that stupid party. You wish you’d told Anya off like you’ve done so many times before, you wish you’d never been there on that stupid bench in the middle of the night, drunk and confused and most of all, you wish she hadn’t come over to check up on you because you’re pretty sure you won’t get her out of your head any time soon and you’re already losing your mind. 

But most of all you wish you’d gone to any party before that one ‘cause maybe, just maybe, you would have met her sooner, rather than later, and maybe,  _ just maybe _ , she wouldn’t have had a boyfriend and you could have been suave and charming and she’d be everything you want and maybe,  _ just maybe _ , so much more. Because if things had worked out that way, you wouldn’t be sitting here on your living room floor, clutching a bottle of red wine to your chest, singing along to Ray Lamontagne. 

Sometimes you think this is all there is to your life now. You think that pointless, sad one-night stands and torn up hearts is all you’ll ever have. Sometimes it’s too hard to think about anything else and you find yourself in this dark place you’ve sworn you’d never return to and you wish things had never changed.

You used to have a plan. 

You used to be happy, satisfied and loved. You used to have everything. And then you found out Costia was sick, and suddenly a lifetime of happiness had an expiration date, one that was so short that you didn’t even have time to properly say goodbye and tell her everything you’d thought you’d have a lifetime to say. 

But you promised yourself you’d move on. She would have wanted that. 

So you tried, for years you put yourself out there, you tried and tried and tried and somehow, you still always ended up right back in your apartment, tired and devastated and slowly giving up hope. You still held on because you used to be strong and you wanted to be again, but much like Clarke, every other girl always came into your life just a little too late, or just not enough.

You clutch the bottle harder before pulling it up and taking a long, bitter swig, the wine not as sweet as you remember it being some years ago when you decided it was your favourite. Somehow you only find yourself drinking this same wine when you’re sitting on the floor of your living room, crying over some girl and really, you’re not even surprised the wine has gotten bitter and the taste just isn’t the same anymore.

You aren’t either. You’re bitter and sad and that last thread of hope that you’ll find some peace and someone to share it with is getting thinner by the day. You know Anya would laugh at you at your hopelessness, all the romantic antics you’ve been through and all the ache you still hold in your soul but you can’t help it and in all honesty, you don’t want to. 

So what if you still want to feel something other than just excitement every once in a while? So what if you long for something deeper, something you thought you’d have? 

The music in the room gets even slower and you take another swig, swallowing the wine along with the lump in your throat.  Your lips curl in a smile before you start to sing along, wiping the stray tear away from your cheek.

“ _ And as for the clouds, just let them roll, roll away…”  _ You sigh, long and deep, take one last swig of the wine. “ _ As for the clouds, just let them roll… Roll away. _ ”

* * *

 

It’s only three days later that fate seems to have a thing for torturing you. Or giving you some weird signs. Not that you actually believe in fate. 

_ Fate is what you make of it _ , is what your mother always told you.

Nonetheless, you’re limping across the long, light-blue hallways, passing by nurses, people on stretchers and doctors that pass you by without a second glance until a young man, clearly a nurse in training, rushes along and all but pushes you to sit down in a wheelchair, wheeling you away through the narrow hallways and, try as you may to memorize the path, you seem to lose count of the turns by the number six. You guess someone will wheel you back to the entrance when you’re done anyway.

When you finally come to a stop, you’re in a large room filled with at least twelve beds, all but one with someone either sitting or lying on them, and nurses around them, all sorts of medical equipment and things beeping and buzzing around you. 

The man helps you up on the last free bed, slowly lifting your leg and apologizing profusely when you grunt in pain as he lifts it too far too quickly and a scorching kind of pain shoots up all the way to your spine. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” You mumble out as you lay back, letting yourself rest up for just a moment, eyes closing as your cross your arms over your chest.

“What do we have here?”A familiar voice has you sitting upright in a second and yelping in pain as you hit your leg against the side of the bed. 

“Ow, fuck!” 

“Whoa there, take it eas- Lexa?” 

A hand lands gently on your leg, the touch sending your mind into overdrive as you look up and meet her eyes and fuck, you’re staring, you know you are, seconds pass and you’re just sitting there, gaping like a fool, like a fish on dry land but you just can’t help it. She’s seemingly even more beautiful than she was that night nearly three weeks ago and you can’t seem to look away from her eyes, so blue and warm and significantly more brilliant than before. And your brain’s short-circuited because you’re pretty sure she’s asking you something, her mouth is moving after all, but you’re not hearing anything and damn, she’s really, _ really _ pretty.

“Lexa?” She tilts her head slightly, lips curling in a smirk.

“Cl-Clarke.” You manage to mumble, still a little tongue-tied, pretty sure your cheeks are as red as they can be by now as you slip your hands underneath your leg and lift it up to set it properly on the bed. “Clarke.” You try again, a little more confident this time, without the quiver in your voice. 

She chuckles, actually chuckles and your stomach does that stupid little flip that you hate so much ‘cause damn it, you were just thinking you might even manage to get over her and well now you’re just doomed. “So, let me repeat that.” She smirks. “What brings you to the hospital on this fine Tuesday?”

And then you remember what happened not even half n’ hour ago and the redness of your cheeks grows even stronger. 

“I, uh-” 

“Some kid with a bike ran her over.” The EMT quips in from the door, watching you carefully. “The girl that called us was just passing by and saw it all, she says Lexa here was unconscious for about a minute before she came to.” 

You barely manage to open your mouth to try and explain what had happened and maybe even deny the whole unconscious part because you’re pretty sure now you’ll have to go through a bunch of unnecessary tests but Clarke’s hands are on your face in an instant, palms pressing gently against your cheeks, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

She leans in close, far too much for your thumping heart, and she’s beyond gentle with you, eyes wide and worried as she runs her fingers softly over your forehead and down your cheeks before she lifts your head slightly, thumbs brushing from your chin, across your jaw and all the way to your neck. 

You can almost feel her breath on your face and god, you just want to lean in and close the distance, kiss her like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do but the moment vanishes as quickly as it came when she pulls back and turns around to face the EMT, saying something about a concussion and something else that you don’t really pick up on because the drumming of your heart is far too loud in your ears.

When she turns back around, she’s smiling at you once again and you’re chanting ‘ _ just a crush, you’ll get over it’  _ in your head, over and over again, trying to fight the disappointment and the all-encompassing sadness that’s threatening to swallow you whole just because she looked at you with that beautiful smile. 

“I wanna run some tests just to make sure you’re alright, you might have actually gotten a concussion and I’m not letting you go home until I know you’re  okay.” She says, walking over and slipping her gloves on. “I’ll clean up this mess first though.” She looks over your slightly bleeding knee, frowning. “You won’t need stitches but I’ll have to bandage it up and you need to rest for a few days, alright?” Her eyes settle on your own and you simply nod because your brain must have forgotten what words are and how talking actually works. 

Probably for the best, really.

* * *

 

Four hours and a whole lot of gruesome tests later, you’re still on a hospital bed, staring up at the tv with a frown until Clarke walks in the room with that brilliant smile on her face. 

Stupid gorgeous smile.

“You’re clear to go.” She says, standing behind the bed and taking your chart. “All your tests look good and to be honest, you’re probably one of the healthiest people I’ve seen come in this hospital.” She glances up over the edge of the chart, smirking at you. “Though not as lucky.” 

You blush a little under her stare, slowly moving to the edge of the bed as you rub the back of your neck. 

“I’m not exactly accident prone.” 

Clarke chuckles. “The events of today point to something entirely different.”

You shrug, grinning sheepishly. “What, like you’ve never been run over by a kid on a bike.” Somehow, amidst all nervous feelings her mere presence gives you, talking to her is the easiest thing in the world.

“Actually, I was.” She grins right back at you. “Only I was six years old and he was eight and I didn’t almost die in the middle of the street.” Her eyebrow is raised in that adorably teasing way that has your heart rate spiking up steadily. 

“I did not almost die.” You mumble, frowning.

“Lexa, I’m being serious now. If that kid had hit you with a little more force, or just at a different angle, you could have been brought here on a stretcher and things could have gone a lot differently.” Somehow her voice is warm despite the gravity of her words and your heart’s having some hiccups problems from the way she makes you feel. “You were actually very lucky today.” 

You finally manage to slide off the bed, wincing a little as you stand on your hurt leg. 

“I know.” You grumble, pulling your jacket on. “I never asked though, is the kid okay? I mean, yeah, okay, I passed out but he also fell and I don’t remember seeing him afterwards.”

“Oh yeah, he’s alright. I think his pride was wounded more than his scraped knees and elbow when his mom came to pick him up and had a very long and loud monologue in the waiting room.” Clarke’s grinning and you can’t really help the laughter that bubbles out of your mouth.

“Damn it, I wish I hadn’t missed that.”

Clarke just smirks before turning around and making her way towards the door slowly but she stops before she’s out, leaning against the door frame. “Do you have anyone to pick you up? You can’t walk home like this.”

You frown because you were legitimately about to walk home and you feel slightly attacked by the fact that she actually figured you out in such a short time knowing you.

“I uh…” 

“You were actually gonna walk, weren’t you?” She’s frowning but then she quirks her eyebrows in that adorable way and the corner of her lips is curled in a smirk that has you all nervous and feeling like a teenager again and for the briefest of moments you completely forget that she actually has a boyfriend because you catch yourself wondering where has all your game gone and why does this beautiful girl keep rendering you speechless.

“Lexa?” The way she says your name has you wishing she’d never stop saying it.

“Sorry.” You shrug, glancing to the side before meeting her eyes. “I guess I could see if my sister can pick me up.” 

“She better.” Clarke’s lips curl in a smirk. “Unless you want me to have one of the EMT’s driving you home in an ambulance.” She chuckles when your eyes go wide. “I’m joking, I can’t exactly ask them that.” 

You totally knew that. Totally.

“Come on then, call her.” Clarke’s staring at you with her arms crossed at her chest, that smirk still plastered on her lips. 

You mutter to yourself, something about how she’s just completely rude, and she grins just as you’re pulling your phone out. “Don’t you have some emergency to attend to?” You ask her, teasing though you are genuinely confused that she’s even here because you know she’s a brain surgeon and your injuries are not exactly her field of work. There’s gotta be someone that needs her more right now.

Although, you kind of selfishly need her to stay right where she is, close but not too much, just enough so you can gaze upon her every now and again, and feel her eyes on you and catch a smile every once in a while.

“Actually, my shift finished an hour ago.” She says, softly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Damnit it, Clarke. 

“Oh.” You hum. “That’s… You didnt’ have to.” 

“I wanted to. Besides, we’re friends, right?” 

You fight the disappointment at her words although, really, what is she supposed to say? She hardly knows you and she’s really nothing more than a stranger to you too but you’re already pining over her and you may have stalked her social media quite a bit and you’re pretty sure that any more of her company might actually make you combust. 

“Thank you, Clarke.” You finally say and press the dial button on your phone, bringing it to your ear and waiting for Anya to answer.

Clarke simply smiles in return and fishes out her own phone from her pocket, swiping across it distractedly as Anya’s voice greets you.

“ _ Hey kiddo, what’s up?”  _

_ “ _ I told you not to call me that,” You grumble, “And do you have some time right now?” 

“ _ I’m actually about to get in a meeting in five minutes, why?”  _

_ “ _ Oh. Nevermind then, I just needed you to pick me up but I’ll just call a cab.” 

“ _ Pick you up? Don’t you have your own car? Where are you Lex, is everything alright?”  _ Anya’s voice turns worried within seconds and it warms your heart in the nicest ways. Anya doesn’t show her feelings often but you know she’d give everything to make sure you’re safe.

“Yeah, I’m alright, I’m just… Uh, I’m at the hospital, actually, some kid ran into me with his bike and my knee was bleeding so they brought me here.” 

“ _ Oh shit, I can, I’ll, fuck, I’ll just cancel the meeting and come pick you up.”  _ Anya mumbles from the other end

“No, Anya, really, it’s fine, I’m fine. Clarke’s actually here-”

“ _ The Clarke?”  _

And you really regret telling Anya anything. 

“Yes.” You mutter.

“ _ Scratch that, I’m totally coming to get you.”  _ Now you can literally tell she’s grinning and you know you’ll never hear the end of this. “ _ I’ll be there in fifteen.”  _

“How do you even know where I am?” 

“ _ Well, you said Clarke is there so I’m only assuming you’re in her hospital?”  _

“Yeah. It’s-”

“ _ I know which one it is, Lexa, you literally spent a week stalking her on Facebook, I know   basically all there is to know about Clarke Griffin.”  _ Anya chuckles and you really wish Clarke hadn’t made you call her.

“I’ll be in the waiting room.” You mumble and only wait for her to say that she’s on her way before you end the call and slip the phone back inside your jacket pocket, looking up to see that Clarke’s eyes are already trained on you. “Anya’s gonna be over in fifteen minutes.” You say and Clarke gives you a thumbs up, smiling. “Um, do you need a ride home?” 

You don’t exactly know why you ask. It’ll just mean at least twenty more minutes of torture if she says yes, possibly even more, depending on where she lives, and you’re pretty sure neither your mind or your body can actually take any more of this torture you’ve been put through. 

Not to mention your poor little gay heart.

Clarke’s eyes seem to light up at your question. “Oh no, thank you, I actually live like, five minutes away from here, I’ll just walk home.”

“Okay then.” You say and start making your way towards the door as she finally steps away from the doorway and lets you pass through, walking slowly beside you. “I’m just going to wait for her in the waiting room, thank you for everything Clarke.” 

Clarke’s hand somehow finds its way to your arm and it startles you, making you stop right in your tracks. “Anytime, Lexa.” She says, staring at you softly. “Give me your phone.” She then says, and judging by the laughter that follows her words you must have a very seriously confused expression on your face. “I’m gonna give you my number in case you get run over by a kid again.” She teases and takes your phone as you hand it to her, punches in her number and gives it back quickly, turning on her heels and heading away from you. “Take care Lexa and be careful!” She calls over her shoulder with a wide smile on her face.

Damn it.

You’re done for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr @kittymannequin :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey there my lovelies, here's the next chapter, as promised.  
> not much happening here, at least not till the last part of the chapter ;)
> 
> you can call this chapter a filler, I guess, since we see a bit more of Anya and Lexa, Raven's getting a bigger part in all this, and Lexa ends up a squirming, nervous mess, courtesy of a certain blonde :D 
> 
> Actual plot starts in the next chapter where you'll be seeing some of Lexa's students, what Clarke actually does and how they'll inevitably get even closer :)

****

It’s a warm, lazy Friday and well into the evening when you get a call from Anya.

“Hey,” You murmur into your phone as you sit up just barely where you’re sprawled on your couch, enjoying your favourite documentary with a glass of wine set precariously on the coffee table.

“Hey kiddo, what’s up?” 

You barely suppress a groan. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t.” You can almost hear the smirk Anya’s definitely sporting as she says that. “Seriously though, where have you been?” 

It’s only then that you remember Anya had texted you a couple of times and a with your mind occupied with work and your students, it completely slipped your mind to answer those messages. So you shift in your seat and clear your throat a little before you speak.

“Work for the most part, I’ve just finished dinner and I was about to fall asleep on my couch when you rudely interrupted my routine with your phone call.” You grin, knowing that Anya would totally smack your shoulder if you said that to her in person. “What’s up? Did you need me or were just trying to get a rise from me with your usual too detailed texts about all the girls you see throughout the day?” 

“I actually needed to talk to you Lex.” She says, short and to then point, and for a moment you manage to get slightly worried. That is, until Anya speaks again. “And if you’d bothered reading your texts, you would have seen I haven’t forgotten about the overly detailed part.” She sounds smug and you don’t bother suppressing your groan.

“I’m gonna delete them without even looking.” You mumble, much to Anya’s obvious amusement, if her chuckling is anything to go by.

“Anyway, kiddo, what are you doing this Friday?” 

“Other than the usual?” You ask, wondering if Anya’s forgotten how your social life is more or less non-existent and, aside for your work, you’ve resigned yourself to squid documentaries and movie nights on Fridays. 

“Right, why am I even asking.” Anya says, sighing. “Well, care to change that?” 

And really, you may as well. If you’re being completely honest with yourself, it’s getting borderline disturbing how much you’ve come to know about all the animals Discovery Channel  talks about and the amount of time you spend watching their documentaries is becoming worrying even for you. Despite how much you don’t want to go anywhere and drinking, loud music and obnoxious, drunk guys are not your cup of tea, you figure you should definitely leave your flat at least once a month. 

And if you’re being really,  _ really _ honest with yourself, if you spend one more evening with your phone in your hands, staring at Clarke’s number and questioning your own thoughts and feelings and desires and essentially, morals - ‘cause Clarke has a boyfriend, Lexa - you’ll probably just end up wilting on your couch. 

“Kid?” Anya’s voice filters through and you shake the thoughts away, pushing yourself off the couch and striding towards your bedroom.

“Yeah, alright.” You say. “What did you have in mind?” 

Anya chuckles on the other side. “That’s the spirit. Finally, geez, where have you been?” 

“Anya.” You warn, but your lips are already curled in a smile even as you say it. “Where do I show up and when?” 

“Alright, alright. Grounders, in forty five. Think you can manage that?” 

You check the small clock on your desk before glancing at yourself in the mirror, assessing how long it might take you to actually get ready. A shower is definitely in order and you’d have to rummage through your close to actually find something that you’d want to put on yourself, but you figure it’s plenty time. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Oh and Lexa?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Bring your guitar.” Anya only says before the line goes blank and you end up standing in the middle of your room slightly confused and frankly astonished how she’s once again managed to hustle you into doing something without even knowing what. 

You throw a sidelong glance at your guitar in the corner of the room before you’re rushing in the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later you’re out and pretty much all done, with your hair dried and braided just enough to make it look like you’ve given it some thought, your clothes impeccable and your dark makeup on point. You always did pull off a great smokey-eyed look, Anya likes to say.

* * *

 

When you leave your flat you’re really glad the weather report for the day said there’d be no rain because you hate carrying your guitar on your bike so instead you take a hurried walk to the bar, checking the time every once in a while with a satisfied smirk because you’re never late and it doesn’t seem like it’ll be the case for tonight either. When you finally do reach the bar, you barely stop yourself from groaning when you realize just how full of people the place is and how lovely your evening could have been if you’d just stayed at home, watching documentaries and enjoying your freshly done popcorn. 

Anya’s impossible not to spot the moment you walk in. She’s at the far, darkened corner of the bar, all tall and imposing in a group of people you can’t seem to recognize from where you’re standing at the door. You order a beer in the passing and point to the table when the bartender asks you where the waiter should bring it and as you make your way over, Anya seems to notice so she waves you a small hello and it’s only then that you realize you, in fact, do know the people she’s sharing the booth with.

“Lexa, you actually made it.” Anya says, much to everyone’s amusement, particularly her own. “I was beginning to think you’d turned into a hermit.” 

You throw a scowl her way as you settle down next to Lincoln who scoots to the side a bit, his arm slung around Octavia who’s eyeing you carefully. 

“Please, you know I’m not religious.” You say as you finally look around the table. 

Lincoln and Octavia are, of course, here, as if they were attached at the hip and it comes as no surprise that they’re snuggled close and somewhat occupied in their own little world, as far as you’ve managed to gather. On the other side there’s Raven and Anya, both somewhat gravitating close to one another, and it makes you wonder if you’ll be fifth-wheeling on some sort of double date here. 

“But you’re still trying to exclude yourself from any social gatherings.” Anya mumbles as she sits back down and takes a swig of her beer before smirking at you.

“I am not, you know I just don’t like bars all that much.” The waiter is quick to bring your beer over and you hurry to take a long swig before you set the bottle down on the table. “So have I been summoned here to fifth-wheel a double date?” You eye the couple on the other side of the booth, realizing that Lincoln’s whispering something in Octavia’s ear and their attention span is clearly not wide enough to include you tonight.

You’d laugh at the fact if you weren’t already a little annoyed.

“Actually, you’re here to third-wheel Raven and me because these two-” Anya says, pointedly looking at Lincoln and Octavia beside you - “Are basically incapable of any social interactions outside of their little cocoon of lovey-dovey.” 

This time you do laugh because trust Anya to read your thoughts just right.

“I’ve noticed, yes.” You mumble and settle more comfortably, leaning back. “Why’d I have to bring the guitar thought?” 

“Oh,” Anya starts, grinning as she turns to meet Raven’s eyes before turning back to look at you again, “It’s acoustic night here tonight and I figured it’d be great if you played a bit.” 

You glance over to the small makeshift stage, only just now realizing there’s actually two people sitting there, one with a guitar and another in front of a microphone and the soft music they’re playing is spreading nicely in the background of the bar. 

“Oh.” You mumble. “Anya.” 

“No, don’t even start Lexa.” Anya glares at you. “We both know you love this sort of thing and ever since your band fell apart-”

“We haven’t fallen apart!” 

“Lexa, you haven’t played a show in three months.” Anya’s got that look, the one you know she reserves only for the dumbest of her clients. “You haven’t even had a rehearsal in the last month and a half, as far as I know.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “We’re all busy and frankly, we’re getting a little too old for that, aren’t we?” 

Anya huffs as Raven chortles, literally chortles beside her. “Please. Too old. Really, who are you and what have you done with my under-thirty sister?” 

“Anyway,” Raven finally joins in, eyeing you, “As much as I love this family banter and you two ladies seem like you could go on for a while, I see my dear best friend has finally arrived-” 

“Hey!” Octavia pipes in from the side, eyebrows scrunched up in an offended frown. “I’m your best friend!” 

Raven only raises an eyebrow. “Anyway, my other best friend is here so can we get this show on the road and finally get plastered as we initially planned to?” She throws her arm up and waves in the direction you came from and you’re kind of dreading to look back over your shoulder because you know, you just know who Raven’s referring to and if this evening could have gone any way, you really wish it hadn’t gone like this. 

You really should have stayed home. That documentary about meerkats seems rather amazing right about now. 

“Clarke!” Raven calls out rather dramatically, waving her hand frantically with a grin plastered on her face. 

You seize the moment where they all seem to be occupied and you turn to your sister, drag her close by her shirt, almost growling at her as you speak.

“You knew Clarke would be here, didn’t you?” 

Anya carefully extracts her shirt from your fingers and pulls away, self-indulgent smirk on her lips. “I don’t see how that should be a problem. Just a girls night out.” She grins at you, just as Lincoln nudges your shoulder, prompting you to stand up and move aside. 

“Huh?” You only manage to huff out before Clarke’s taking his place and he mumbles something about seeing you all in a few days before he’s making his way through the crowd and he’s gone as you’re still trying to realize what exactly is going on.

“Clarkey!” Raven grins from the other side of the booth. “You finally managed to escape from that pest of yours!” 

“Raven!” Clarke chides her. “Finn is not a pest.” 

“I meant your job.” Raven’s laughter finally prompts you to sit back down as you awkwardly position yourself beside Clarke.

“Rude.” Clarke mumbles before all her attention is suddenly turned to you and her eyes settle on your own. “Hi there.” She says and that stupid little tilt of her head seems to take all the breath away from you so all you seem to manage is a weak, sheepish smile and a tiny, superbly awkward wave of your hand. 

“Sorry, Lexa’s kind of been caught off guard, we tricked her into coming tonight.” Anya seems to realize the conundrum you’ve found yourself in and she pitches in, drawing Clarke’s attention away from you. “I promised her a lot of booze and good time and even managed to get her to take her guitar.” 

“Somewhere along the way she forgot to tell her we’re having a girl’s night out.” Raven adds and from the side of your eye you see Octavia grinning from behind Clarke as she raises her glass and the rest join in with their own.

“To our first real girls’ night!” Octavia shouts over the noise of the bar and all eyes seem to turn to you as you’re the only one that has yet to join them.

Reluctantly, you eye your beer before taking it in your hand and raising it to meet their own glasses with a clink.

It’s going to be one hell of a long, interesting night.

* * *

 

You don’t know how this happened, you don’t know how you even ended up where you are right now but one thing you do know for sure - this is all Anya’s fault and you’re just about ready to kill her. 

She’ll hear about this tomorrow, you decide as you slowly make your way through the familiar space, almost slugging your way around the halls until you reach your intended location, swiftly - as swiftly as a mildly drunk person can - you slip through the open door, promptly closing it behind you and leaning back against it.

The last thing you remember really clearly is that you were on the stage, playing through your fifth or sixth song, and somehow after that things became far too blurry for you to remember. 

So you stand there, in the dark of the room, taking one, two, ten deep breaths, until you’re sure your heart has calmed down to a relatively normal rate and your legs won’t fail you if you try to take another step.

When you do finally push yourself off the door, not before locking it in the process, you turn on the light and for a moment it blinds you, the sudden brightness of the cold bathroom  and the horrific image that startles you when you realize you’re staring at yourself in the mirror.

“God Lexa, you look like hell.” You mutter to yourself, approaching it slowly as you run a hand through your hair, trying to tame the wild mane that’s already escaped the braids you’d managed to arrange earlier in the evening.

It takes you a while but when you finally manage to freshen up enough for your vision to clear almost fully and the pounding in your head to subside a little, someone’s pounding on the door reminds you where exactly you are and that you can’t just hide here forever, as much as you’d like to.

“Come on, get the fuck out of the bathroom, I’m gonna piss myself!” Raven’s voice booms through the closed door and you’re slightly tempted to keep it locked, just to torture her for participating in the vile plan of your sister’s. 

“Hakuna your damn tatas Raven, I’ll be right out!” You shout right back, running your fingers through your hair again and throwing a glance in the mirror, giving yourself a onceover. At least now you look a bit more presentable and unfortunately, you knew the time of hiding in Anya’s bathroom would have to have an end so you move over to the door, unlock it carefully and step aside when Raven all but bursts inside, pushing past you and running to the toilet.

You slip out as she shouts something after you but the door’s already closed behind you and the music from the living room has turned loud again so you don’t even bother trying to figure out how Raven’s insulted you this time.

The girl’s alright, you’ve decided earlier in the evening. More than alright, you think. 

She can hold her own around your sister, a feat not many have managed, she can certainly drink, if her current state is anything to go by, she’s really,  _ really _ smart and her sense of humour actually goes along the same lines as yours. Maybe just a little less sophisticated, but you’d never actually say that. 

She’s a loudmouth though, and throughout the evening, you’re not sure if she’s stopped talking for longer than two minutes. She likes to joke a lot, pull random small pranks on her friends and some words she says about her job are far too big and complicated even for your educated brain to understand because engineering has never been your thing and even after all night listening to her talk about her job, you have yet to figure out what it is exactly that she does. 

Nonetheless, you like her. And Anya seems to as well and that makes your lips curl in a grin because it’s been years since you’ve had some proper  _ Anya-teasing _ material and you’ll sure as hell use this well. 

As you make your way back through the hall to the living room of Anya’s apartment, you’re,  _ unfortunately _ , reminded of the conundrum you’ve found yourself in. 

_ Stupid Anya and her stupid meddling. _

Anya’s in the kitchen, fumbling about and apparently getting more alcohol from the fridge, not that any of you need any more, and you just hope she doesn’t come to the idea of cooking because you really don’t feel like having to deal with a fire tonight as well. 

The whole evening’s been heated enough as is. 

The source of all your problems - that Anya has cause you to begin with - is sitting on the couch just a few feet away from you now, staring at something on her phone and excitedly shouting at Anya to come and join her and check out whatever it is that’s got her attention. 

Even drunk, Clarke is a sight to behold.

Her hair’s gone to hell a while ago, with messy blonde strands sticking here and there and the top of it somehow flatter than it’s supposed to be, her shirt’s a little stained thanks to a hot dog she devoured earlier and her makeup is smudged, the corners of her eyes slightly more black than necessary and her lipstick long gone. 

You think she looks lovelier than ever. 

She turns to meet your eyes when you emerge from the hallway, and her face somehow manages to look even prettier when a smile greets you and her eyes crinkle at just how wide that smile is. 

“Lexie pooh!” Clarke calls and you’re groaning before you can even stop herself.

“Anya for fucks sakes!” You all but growl at your sister who just sniggers at you from the kitchen, hiding behind the open counter. You can still hear her chuckles and it’s about now that you wish the earth would just open and swallow you whole. 

“Clarke.” You say as you sit down on the couch, mindful of the distance between the two of you because as lovely as she is, Clarke is too much for you to handle sober, let alone in the state she is in right now.

She’s a clingy drunk, you learned quickly. She likes to hold people’s hands, hug them more often than really necessary, she likes to sit so close that it almost feels like she’s trying to climb onto another’s lap and more often than not, in the past couple of hours, she’d leaned far too close for your comfort, her lips near your own, her warm breath ghosting over your skin.

Drunk Clarke Griffin is your horcrux and sooner than later she’ll be the death of you.

More so when her warm hand lands on your thigh and she squeezes slightly before slurring.

“Come on Lexieee, Anya was just, she was just uh, Anya what were you?”

“Just listening to you!” Anya pipes in from the kitchen and you throw her a glare as you look behind your shoulder before another squeeze of Clarke’s hand pulls your attention back to the blue eyes now much closer than just mere seconds ago.

“Don’t be mad at her, Lexie Pooh.” Clarke mumbles staring deep into your eyes before her lips curl into a smile. “You’re so cute.” She murmurs and moves to lean back but somehow she manages to miss the arm of the couch completely and she tumbles over on the ground, just sliding off the couch as you watch in mild horror and amusement as her flailing arms try to grasp onto something, anything, until her behind is all the way on Anya’s carpet. “Ouf.” She only mumbles and continues to just lie there, pulling her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. “So cute.” She murmurs once more and closes her eyes.

You may just catch a break tonight.

Trying not to laugh is becoming too hard so you push yourself up, not before you give her a quick onceover, assessing that Clarke will be more than fine down on the floor, and you hurry over to the kitchen, glaring at your sister.

“I will kill you.” 

“You will do no such thing.” Anya mumbles and pours you another glass of … Something, but you push it aside and grab an empty glass, filling it with water. 

“Oh I sure will.” You grumble and take a long swing of your water. “Anya what the hell were you thinking, bringing them here and doing this to me?” You set the glass down and your hands settle on the edge of the kitchen island as Anya finally turns to look at you fully. “You know how I feel… About Clarke.” 

Suddenly she seems more sober than you thought possible and she takes a step forward, closing the space between you almost fully. “Exactly, Lexa.” She says, eyes narrowing to your own. “I know how you feel about Clarke and I know, for a fact, that you haven’t felt like this for someone in years Lexa.” She sets her own glass down and takes your shoulders into her hands, squeezing slightly. “It’s time, Lexa, you know this.” 

Your eyes falter and you look away before settling to stare at the ground between your feet.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do?” You murmur, silently, as your eyes begin to water a little, all the pent up feelings you’ve somehow managed to stuff somewhere now emerging and slowly overcoming you. “She has a boyfriend, Anya. You know I would never-” 

“They’re not happy.” A third voice joins you and your head whips to the sound as you turn around in a second and notice Raven leaning against a wall close by with her arms crossed over her chest. “ _ She  _ is not happy. Not with him, at least.” She continues, taking a few steps forward to join Anya and you in the kitchen. “Look. I’m her best friend and I probably shouldn’t be saying this but what the hell, right?” She shrugs and you don’t fail to notice the way Anya’s lips twitch in a small smirk. “Clarke… She’s been through a lot, and she deserves the world. She’s like a sister to me and I want her to be happy. And right now, she’s not.” 

“What does it have to do with me?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. 

Raven glares at you momentarily and you earn a slap over the back of your head from your sister. 

“I haven’t seen her smile and laugh so much in a long time Lexa, the way I have this evening. And I know for a fact that you’re just her type.” Raven raises an eyebrow at you. “And I know from a very close source that you have a thing for blondes.” 

You glare at your sister. “Anya.” 

“What? It’s true.” She shrugs, eyes moving from you to Raven. “I have a thing for brunettes.” She says, blankly, much to Raven’s amusement.

“I know.” Raven murmurs and you’re pretty sure this is some moment between them that you’re somehow interrupting but then Raven’s eyes settle on you again. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do and I certainly don’t wanna interfere in what she has with Finn. But I am telling you that Clarke is not happy in that relationship, she hasn’t been for a while, and it’s only a matter of time before that is over.” 

“I still don’t see the point of this.” You insist and really, what is the point?

Are you just supposed to sit there and watch her, all beautiful and wonderful, as you fall deeper in l- whatever it is that you’re falling in with her, and you’re just supposed to wait while her relationship falls apart so you can swoop in and get the girl? 

That’s not something you’d ever do and the very idea makes you feel like shit.

“Ugh, you really are stubborn, aren’t you? You two are perfect for each other.” Raven mutters before turning around and heading to the couch. “Just, Lexa?” She calls to you as she leans over to drag Clarke back up on the couch. 

“Yeah?” You say as you walk over before she can even do anything, determined to help her pull Clarke back up on the couch. 

“Just keep in mind what I told you, alright?” 

You don’t really know what to tell her so you only nod and slip your hands underneath Clarke’s feet, raising them up on the couch as Raven drags her upper body on it and you pull a blanket from the side and drape it over Clarke, smiling when she burrows further into the pillows and a small smile spreads over her face.

“Lightweight, this one.” Raven murmurs before she moves back to the kitchen, leaving you to stare at Clarke and, as creepy as it sounds, it definitely looks that way too.

You’re just standing there, eyeing her carefully with a doofy smile on your face as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart because, try as you may, you can’t shut out Raven’s voice and her words from your head and all this is a bit more than you’d signed up for. 

There’s nowhere left to sit so you toe out of your shoes and settle down on the carpet, in front of the couch, leaning back against it as you turn on the tv take a long, deep breath. You can hear Raven and Anya mumbling in the kitchen, occasionally laugher makes its way through the room and you’re pretty sure, as their voice grow fainter, you can hear sounds that you’d describe as certainly more than just talking, but then you feel a weight on your shoulder and you tilt your head to see Clarke’s hand on it and when you look up to check on her, she’s still got that smile on her face but her eyes are set on your own and you don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” She murmurs, squeezing at your shoulder. 

You swallow through the lump in your throat, reaching up to set your hand over her own in an awkward but more than just satisfying gesture. 

“What are friends for?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to add it in the first note so here it is.  
> Regarding Lexie Pooh - I've seen this nickname used in a couple of fics and honestly, I would love to tag the person who used it first but I honestly can't remember where I first saw it and if you do know, tell me please :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait my lovelies, I've had a really long and busy July so far and it doesn't seem like it's gonna get any better any time soon.  
> The chapter was meant to go a little differently, give you some actual, real plot and have Clarke and Lexa discuss something really important, but alas, I tend to get lost in descriptions and that happened here as well so you'll be getting their full "date" next chapter, which I promise you won't have to wait for this long. 
> 
> If nothing else, the fic will be a little longer? :D

“Professor Woods?”

Aden, your brightest, most talented student, calls from the door of your office, standing there awkwardly and a little shyly and you brighten up at the sight of him immediately, turning in your chair and standing up as you motion for him to walk inside.

“Aden! I didn’t hear you knock, come on in.” You say with a small smile.

“Uh, I actually did, a couple of times, but you weren’t answering and the violin professor, uh, I forgot her name, she said you were definitely in your office.” He mumbles as he steps inside hesitantly and the door closes behind him.

“Oh,” You hum, “I guess I was caught up in my thoughts.” A grin spreads over your lips as you shrug slightly. “Us musicians, am I right?”

Aden perks up at your words and a matching grin spreads over his face as he takes another step closer after you’ve motioned to the chair in front of your desk. “Definitely.”

You don’t allow yourself this kind of behaviour around any other student besides Aden, and hardly any of your colleagues have ever seen you this relaxed. But there’s just something about this kid, something so familiar, almost as if you can see yourself in him, see the way you used to be so bright and enthusiastic and open to so many new things, and it warms your heart whenever you see him and those bright, young eyes of his.

It certainly helps that he seems to be one of the rare people in your life that totally gets your whole ‘ _I’m not really funny but I’m trying’_ personality. Not everyone gets your dry sense of humour and your attempts  at jokes.

Aden is an exceptional student and you’re beyond proud to say that you got the privilege to pass on all your knowledge onto him, in hopes that he achieves his dreams, just as you’d had the luck to achieve yours. You’ve taken him to a couple of competitions in the past six years that you’ve been teaching him, and he’s excelled in all of them, never going below second place. His technique is astonishing for a boy his age and it’s another thing that makes you think of how much alike the two of you are. You know he spends hours practicing and you’re so proud of him, you never fail to remind him of that, much to his boyish embarrassment and the tinge in his cheeks that your words cause.

You remember how you used to spend hours upon hours practicing, at home, at school, at the park - wherever you could, really. You’d just take your guitar along with you, tucked safely inside the case, and the moment you knew you’d have more than thirty minutes free, you’d sit down and take it out, intent on spending every bit of free time you could on perfecting what you’d already known.

Sometimes you think how your first guitar was the most precious thing you’d ever called yours. That is, until Costia came along.

You caressed the strings the same way you’d caress her, and you pressed your fingers against the frets just as you liked to press them against her curves, exploring, learning the one thing you’d come to love more than your guitar.

Costia’s body.

Costia.

You suddenly realize Aden’s been standing awkwardly in front of your desk for a while now and so you shake your head a bit, hoping it’ll help shake the thoughts away as well, before you motion for him to sit down as you take your place back in your chair as well.

“You needed to talk to me?” You ask him, leaning back with a warm smile on your face.

“I just, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“You know you can ask me anything Aden, I’m here to help you out with whatever you might have trouble with.”

He’s nervous, you can easily tell from the way he’s so fidgety, fingers playing with the hem of his sweater and his feet tapping lightly against the floor as he shifts for the third time in his seat.

“I uh, would it be, I mean, uh-”

“Aden.” You stop him, pulling yourself closer to table as you rest your elbows on it, leaning over to look at him more closely. “Is something wrong?”

“No!” He almost shouts from how fast the word slips from his mouth. “I just, um, I’ve been wondering, would it be alright if I, I, if I played some things at this birthday party I’m supposed to go to this weekend?”

You tilt your head a bit, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow, slightly stumped by his question.

“Of course?” You half ask, half reply to his own question. You really don’t see the problem and if Aden has to ask you such a thing, you wonder what kind of vibe he’s been getting from you. “Why wouldn’t it be alright?”

He shifts in his seat yet again before speaking.

“Well the next competition is in less than a month and I don’t want to do anything to mess it up but I really want to play at this party ‘cause Trinny’s gonna be the-” He suddenly stops himself, cheeks turning redder by the second as he averts his gaze, trying to look anywhere but you. “Anyway, yeah, so it’s ok?”

You barely manage to suppress a chuckle, knowing full well that you needn’t make him feel even more embarrassed than he already does. You know what it feels like to want to woo a girl with your guitar skills, hell, you’ve had your own fair share of girls swooning and fawning over you any time you’d pull out a guitar at some party. So you decide to be the best teacher you could possibly be and you give a small shrug of your shoulders.

“Of course it’s okay, Aden. Playing is practice. Just don’t overdo it and you’ll be fine, really.” You finish with a smile and the way his whole face lights up reminds you exactly why it is that you decided this was the job for you and not the one your parents always wanted you to do. “Make sure to take care of your guitar thought.” You remind him. “Be careful with it.”

He nods dutifully. “Of course, Miss Woods. I’ll take my older one, just in case anything happens.” He smiles goofily. “You never know with people and parties.” You nod and he stands up swiftly, grinning from ear to ear as he slowly makes his way towards the door with backwards steps. “Thank you Miss Woods,” He half-says, half-shouts across your office, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You just smile and give him a small wave before the door’s closing behind him and you’re once again left in your solitude before your next lesson in thirty minutes. When you check your phone, you see a few messages from Anya and you’re just about to open them but you catch sight of the time displayed on your large clock on the far wall and without second thought, you’re up and out of your seat and rushing out of your office.

Being lost in your thoughts and talking to your students is one thing, but you’ve missed your lunch far too many times in the past couple of weeks, you just know Anya would have a field day yelling at you about it if you missed yet another one. You nearly bump into a couple of students on your way to the small cafeteria you have in your school and when you grab your favourite sandwich, grinning ‘cause you managed to snag the last one, you hurry back to your office, already halfway through the delicious meal.

It doesn’t take you too long to finish your sandwich but by then Anya’s messages are long forgotten and when you do remember them, you’re already making your way to the small classroom where your next student awaits. And really, you figure, if it was something important, Anya would have already called you.

* * *

 

“See you Thursday, miss Woods!” The little girl calls as she rushes out of the room, her guitar seemingly that much bigger than her own frame as she runs out the door with a giggle, leaving you alone in your classroom.

She’s the last student of the day and you don’t really have anywhere to be, certainly not at four in the afternoon, so you don’t really have to rush, and you take your time walking around the small classroom, setting a few book back in their place and pushing the chairs back under the few small tables that you have.

As a guitar teacher, you don’t really have a large classroom and really, why would you need one bigger than this? You have your own, in all honesty quite large, wooden desk, your own comfy chair, four tables slightly pushed to the back of the room and a chair set directly in front of your desk, with a small foot rest set next to it. The windows around the walls are large and let in substantial amounts of light, which you really love, especially in cold winter days when everything seems far too dull and grey, and the few cupboards and bookshelves at the far side of the room give it a much warmer feel than anything possibly could. You even tried growing a couple of plants in here once, but after managing to kill three succulents and a cactus, you gave up on that idea. Some things are just not for everyone.

By the time you reach your desk again, you figure it’s been at least ten minutes of you staring out the window and that’s definitely your daily fill of being ‘ _an airhead’,_ as Anya likes to call you sometimes. So you busy yourself with putting your pens and a few pieces of paper away, nothing really significant, and as you close one of the drawers in your desk, locking it and setting the key inside your bag, a faint knock on the door frame pulls you from the mindless state you’ve put yourself in. You’re just about to turn around and meet the intruder when the familiar voice startles you, making you nearly drop your bag and the papers in your hand.

“Is this a bad time?”

You nearly stumble over from how fast you manage to turn around.

“Clarke? Wha- What are you doing here?” You mumble, slightly breathless as you take a shaky step to lean back against your desk.

Clarke’s eyebrows furrow a little in confusion and if it isn’t the most adorable sight you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, you really don’t know what is.

“What do you mean- uh, Anya said she’d let you know I was- I mean, I asked her to-” Clarke stops suddenly and you’re just stuck standing there, frozen and staring at her in anticipation and mostly admiration because she looks as beautiful as ever and it’s kind of hard to focus on anything other than the way her hair seems to glow in the dim light of your classroom and her eyes are as bright as ever. She groans then, a small barely audible sound coming from her lips, before she runs her hand through her hair and leans against the doorframe.

“Did Anya not let you know I was coming?” She questions and your brain seems to pick up from there.

“Uh, let me..” You trail off and shove your hand inside your pocket, muttering when it takes you a bit to pull out your phone because stupid women’s jeans and tiny pockets that make no sense and can’t fit a single mobile phone. The moment you unlock it you realize you probably should have checked all those messages Anya had sent you because there’s an alarmingly large number of them there. “Oh shit. Yeah.” You start, looking up from your phone and meeting Clarke’s eyes for a brief moment before you look down to your phone again. “She did send me a couple of messages.” A couple is the understatement of the century seeing as there are at least a dozen of Anya’s messages there, mostly just one word ones with nothing but your name and an occasional expletive.You realize there are at least four missed calls from her and you barely manage to suppress a groan.

Clarke throaty chuckle pulls your attention away from your phone and your head snaps up to look at her just as she shifts in her spot. “Well, then I guess this one’s on you.” She grins and you can’t help but let your own lips pull into a wide smile in response to her own.

“Yeah, I guess I forgot to check my phone,” You say, still smiling at her, “Nevertheless, what brings you here?”

Clarke folds her arms over her chest. “Well, I have something I’d like to discuss with you, if you have time?”

“Uh, sure, let me just, um..” You push yourself off the table and walk hurriedly around it, simultaneously motioning to the scattered papers and your possessions. “I just need to put a few things away and lock up and then I’m all yours.”

There’s a short series of curses running through your mind after those words slip from your lips and you make a mental note to berate yourself later when you’re alone and can reflect upon your stupid, loud mouth.

_All yours, really Lexa._

“Alright.” You hear Clarke murmur. “Do you want me to wait outside or?”

“Oh no, it’s alright, I’m actually done here.” You say as you put away the remaining papers and grab your bag, making your way towards the door. “Something’s bugging me though.” You say, eyeing her as she steps out, letting you close the door and slide your key in the lock.  

“What’s that?”

“How’d you know where I work?”

Clarke visibly pales at your question and you wonder what was so horrible about it until she starts speaking.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, this has to all seem so creepy!” Clarke starts apologizing and you can’t help but chuckle at her antics until she’s standing by your side with her mouth hanging open and a fairly confused expression. “Wha?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You grin. “I mean, I’m not creeped out, don’t worry.”

“Oh thank god.” She mutters, running her hand through her hair again, much to your dismay ‘cause really, an action so simple shouldn’t be so appealing. “I totally didn’t even consider that.” Clarke grins as she falls in step with you.

“I was just a little,” You lie, “Surprised to see you here, is all.”

Clarke turns to meet your eyes. “A little?”

She sees through you far too easily, you concede and hang your head in shame, bottom lip pulling into a pout. “Got me.”

“You straight up looked at me like I was a serial killer.” Clarke teases, jabbing a finger softly in your side, pressing it against your ribs. When you tilt your head to look at her, she stops in her tracks, staring at you with a look you can’t really read, stuck somewhere between awed and amused and her lip is pulled between her teeth and _god_ , it’s doing things to you. “I promise I’m not.” She finally says after a couple of seconds of silence before she starts walking again. "Anya told me where you work so I thought I'd see if I can catch you here."

“Good to know that.” You add and hurry to open the door for her, sidestepping when she nods in appreciation. “So, now that you've caught me, what can I help you with?”

Clarke grins when you both walk out of the school. “I have something important I’d like to talk to you about, something that occurred to me a while ago but we don’t really know each other that well and besides, I don’t have your number so I couldn’t just text you to meet up.”

“Oh.” You run your hand through your hair, rubbing the back of your neck as you follow her to what you assume is her car. “Sorry about that, sometimes I completely forget I actually have a phone and I honestly don’t remember the last time I gave my number to someone.”

Clarke arches an eyebrow. “No ladies wooed by your guitar skills to give your number to?”

You don’t really expect those words to come from her so your steps falter slightly, seemingly going unnoticed by her.

“I uh…” You start, unsure of what to say. After a few seconds of painfully awkward silence, you decide honesty is the best policy. “I don’t really go out enough to actually be able to woo anyone.” You shrug when she gives you a look. “It’s not really my thing.”

“That’s a shame.” Clarke mumbles and you’re pretty sure she didn’t mean it to sound that way but it does make your stomach flip momentarily as you consider what she could have meant by that.

You don’t get much time to think it over because Clarke stops abruptly beside a small black car, grinning at you.

“Well, this is me.” She leans back against it. “So, what do you say? Interested in hearing what I have to say enough to accompany me to coffee?” Her grin seems to be plastered on her face and it’s honestly the cutest thing ever. “If you don’t have any plans right now, of course. I would hate to intrude.” She quickly adds, a little nervousness seeping through her words.

You don’t know what you like more, really. The confident, almost cocky Clarke that makes your stomach flip and your brain all fuzzy or this cute, somewhat nervous and shy Clarke that makes you want to just pull her into your arms and bury your face in her neck and hold her until your arms give out.

You really wish you could just ignore both of them and focus on the only version of Clarke you _should_ be focusing on - the friendly girl that’s trying to talk to you about something that’s clearly important to her and there’s no hidden agenda behind her words.

“No plans.” You say, barely managing to stop yourself from grinning like a fox when her lips widen in a smile. “So, where are you taking me?”

Clarke chuckles lightly and opens the passenger door for you, ushering you inside. “Small coffee shop nearby sound okay?” She mumbles as she makes her way around the car and sits at the driver’s seat.

“Sounds perfect, actually.”

When she sits down and pulls the seatbelt around herself she stops with her movements for a moment, gripping the wheel as she turns to you, eyes all but sparkling with joy. “Thanks, Lexa.”

If your heart hasn’t jumped out of your chest by now, you’re sure hearing her say your name with that sweet voice of hers will certainly be the death of you.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa finally go for coffee and Lexa may just combust from all that alone time with Clarke but we finally find out what's on Clarke's mind.

How you always manage to get yourself in these kinds of situations is beyond you. 

Somehow you’ve never had it in you to say no to a pretty girl, no matter how much you knew she’d be trouble. Hell, you remember that one time your long time crush Gina Willis asked you to kick her ex boyfriend’s ass back in high school and you had detention for a month when he ended up with a bloody nose, all because of your inability to say no to a pretty girl. 

It would certainly explain how you’ve found yourself sitting alone at a coffeeshop with Clarke, wondering why your brain seems to have no recollection of the word no whenever she’s in question. 

You’re finding it far too hard to focus on anything other than the slope of her shoulders and the way her golden locks fall so effortlessly over them, the way her lips twitch up in the most adorable of smirks whenever she teases you about something and how her eyes seem to be shining in the late afternoon sun filtering in through the large coffeeshop windows. 

She still hasn’t told you why she’s asked you here, not explicitly at least, but you do know it has something to do with work and you’re not really sure how your job connects with hers but simply getting to listen to her talk about silly little nothings is enough to keep you grounded to the chair for at least another decade or so. 

“And anyway, that’s how Monty got his hand stuck in the vending machine.” She finishes her story, grinning, before she pulls back with an almost terrified look on her face, running her hand through her hair. “And I’m boring you, aren’t I?” 

You smile at her, your lips curling even without your permission. “Not at all.” As you take a sip of your tea, she crosses her legs, accidentally brushing over yours in the process, and you almost choke on your sip, seemingly managing to conserve your dignity as you end up coughing up. 

“Oh my god, Lexa!” Clarke is up from her chair in a matter of seconds and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been this much of a klutz around a woman in your life and it somehow makes you wonder how you ever got Costia to go on a date with you because if you were like this back then she must have been either mad or just far too good for you. 

You reckon it was the latter. 

When your coughing fit finally ends you realize Clarke’s got one hand on your shoulder, the other softly brushing over your cheek and she’s definitely noticed the blushing by now, if the faint rosy color of her cheeks is anything to go by. 

“I’m alright, just went down the wrong drain,” You manage to mumble as she nods and moves to sit back down on her chair. “Don’t worry, takes more to knock me out than some tea.” 

“Good to know.” Clarke murmurs with a soft smile and you’re back at it again with your school girl crush and your clearly far too fuzzy brain. “Well, I’ve been droning on about nonsense for far too long.” 

“It wasn’t nonsense, and you certainly weren’t droning on. I lov- enjoyed listening about what goes in on call rooms besides sleeping.” You hope she missed your little slip up because damn it Lexa, you can barely call each other friends and there you are, almost spilling all your guts. But you manage to package it up with a smooth little teasing line and the smirk she gives you is absolutely worth it. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out for a coffee with someone. It’s nice not spending all my time in my apartment, for a change.” 

“Then we should make a habit of this.” 

You better just reconcile with the fact that you’re far in over your head with Clarke Griffin and life is clearly just itching to make you spend as much time with her as possible, so you don’t accidentally happen to forget about your crush and how much it’s turning out to be something far more. 

You nod and she smiles at you again.

“Anyway, I think it’s time I told you why I asked you here in the first place.” 

“Alright.” You say and set your elbows on the table, clasping your hands as you rest your chin on them. “I’m all ears.” You finish with a smile and Clarke struggles a little to return it but ultimately her lips curl in a soft one and it warms your heart enough to slowly melt through those icy walls you have around it. 

Clarke turns a little fidgety as the small silence stretches on and you almost start to wonder what it is she needs to talk to you about but after uncrossing and crossing her legs for the third time her confident demeanor seems to return, albeit not yet in full swing but you can certainly see the Clarke you’ve come to know somewhere in there.

“Well I, you see.” She starts, finger dragging over the rim of her coffee mug. “I’ve been working on something ever since I finished my residency at the hospital and well, I kind of always knew this would be something I’d like to work on, even if at times it seemed like nothing more than a very time consuming hobby rather than actual work.” She glances to the side, sighing a little, before continuing. “But now that I’ve actually made a name for myself, our chief back at the hospital has decided that with a name and a certain title finally come the privileges I’ve needed to get this whole thing started and well, I uh, I-” 

“Clarke.” You start, reaching out to clasp her hand against your better judgement. It’s as soft as you thought it would be but it does have the desired effect and she seems to calm down almost instantly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” You say softly, eyes trained on her own. “I’m not sure how I can help here but I’d like to try, if I can.” 

Clarke smiles back at you, eyes seemingly shining as she gives you a small nod.

“I wanted to ask you if you’d like to work with me on my new study.” She finally manages to say what she’s clearly had in mind for a while and you’re both overwhelmed by her words and relieved that they’re not something else. You’re not sure you could have handled much more suspense. 

“You.. What?” 

Clarke chuckles and slips her hand away from yours, your heart twinging in an undignified, sad way, and she leans back in her chair, settling more comfortably. 

“As I was trying to say through my mumbling, the chief has finally given me the green light for a study I’ve wanted to do ever since I came to the hospital. There’ll be a fundraises and all that jazz, to get some more sponsors for it because medical research is, unfortunately, extremely expensive, but nothing’s set in stone yet and well, one of the main things I’m still missing is a musical expert. And that’s where you come in.” 

“Oh.” You only manage to say, unsure if your heart is trying to thump its way out of your chest or just trying to suffocate you with the force of its beating. 

It’s not as if Clarke asked you to give her a kidney, for goodness sake. You don’t even know why you’re reacting like this, why your heart is beating so wildly, like she asked you to come home with her and cuddle on her sofa, and you’re finding it even harder to understand all the whirring thoughts in your head. There’s a million questions there right now and the loudest ones are probably showing on your face because Clarke’s staring at you with the softest eyes, smile barely there. 

“I know I haven’t exactly explained it the best way, trust me, this is not how my speech was supposed to go.” 

_ Thump.  _

“You had a speech prepared for this?” 

Clarke seems to be just a little taken aback. “Well, yes, I mean, we’re not exactly the closest of friends but we’re not complete strangers either and well, I’d completely understand if you say no without even wanting to listen to everything I have to say.” 

“I’d never do that.” The words fly out before you have a chance to stop yourself. 

This is exactly why you need to work on your social skills, this and the fact that sitting across a gorgeous woman has you rendered almost speechless. 

“I appreciate that Lexa, but I know how all of this looks, probably.” She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. “It’s probably selfish of me, I mean, hell, it’s totally selfish but I don’t really know any other musician with a Juilliard diploma and-”

“Let me guess, Octavia?” 

Clarke gives you a sheepish smile. “I may have given her a list of questions she was supposed to ask Lincoln about you. I pride myself on doing my research thoroughly and I want to be not just well, but extremely well informed and well, you don’t really have the whole social media thing going..” She trails off for a moment before realizing, again, what she’d just said. She groans and hides her face in her hands, mumbling through her palms. “I can’t believe I just told you I stalked you online.” 

You really can’t help but laugh, fully and wholeheartedly. 

Sure, it may just be a little bit creepy how she’s done her research on who you are and what you do, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t done the same. Hell, Anya would have a field day talking about just how long you spent pining over Clarke’s instagram photos and how meticulous you were about it. 

But she truly is adorable, with her face hidden, her eyebrows all scrunched up and peeking above the tips of her fingers, her blonde locks and mussed and pushed back. You can see the telltale signs of a smile peeking out from the side of her cover and when she finally does pull her hands away, and her eyes fall on yours, you know you were sold long ago. She really didn’t even have to ask, you would say yes to pretty much anything she asked you.

“Well, you certainly are thorough in your research.” You tease her, smirking when she groans again and moves to hide behind her hands again. “Nah, come on, it’s alright. I understand. Weirdly, I really do.” 

That is not to say you’ll tell her you did the exact same thing not too long ago. She doesn’t need to know that you spent countless hours telling Anya just how amazing Clarke Griffin is, how much she’s already achieved and how wonderful she must be. 

You finally have a chance to save some of your dignity and you’ll be damned if you don’t seize it. 

“I’ll just have to make sure I do my job right since now I know you’re probably capable of tracking me down and giving me a proper talking to.” 

Before you know it she’s reaching over and slapping you across your arm lightly, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Well I mean, I want to know exactly what I’m getting myself into first but-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have all the information before the project starts. I know this is probably not that big of a thing for you but really, Lexa, I will understand if you say no. You’re not obliged to say yes just because I asked. Or for whatever other reason, really.” 

You frown slightly and take a sip from your mug. She continues, seemingly oblivious of your frowning face.

“And it’s not a huge project, just something that I’ll be running on the side of all my work, I mean I have studied about all of it for the past six years and it’s been a constant project of mine but there is so much more to do and well, everything needs to be tested because in theory things might work but unless we see how patients will actually react, there’s really no point.” 

You nod, setting your mug back down on the table. 

“What exactly is it about?” 

“The effects of musical therapy, along with a couple of other types of therapy that I’ve included in the study, on babies. Specifically, the ones admitted at our Neuro Pediatrics department.” 

You let the words sink in, slowly nodding your head.

“So, babies with, uhm, neurological problems?” 

“Pretty much, yes. Seizure disorders, convulsions, epilepsy.” Clarke adds, brushing her finger over the rim of her mug. “I don’t wanna bore you with the hard details right now, but we can get into all of this when we set up a first session?” 

“Yes, of course.” You say with a smile and Clarke returns a matching one. 

“Thank you Lexa, this means more to me than I can explain, really.” She mumbles, a little nervously, and you manage to fight the urge to take her hand again.

“Clarke, music is my passion and if I can use it to help babies, well, I wish someone had told me sooner about it.” 

“Well, maybe you should have come to one of Bellamy’s parties sooner then,” she teases, grinning at you, “And then I would have found you snogging a tree sooner and we could have had this coffee already.” 

A groan escapes you before you can stop it and you hide your face in your hands, remembering the night you first met her and how embarrassingly dorky you ended up being around her then. 

“I thought we agreed we’d pretend all that never happened?” You mumble, your words muffled by your hands.

“I agree to no such thing.” Clarke chuckles and fishes her phone out of her purse just as you glare at her and settle back in your chair. “Oh wow, I actually kept you here for almost two hours, god Lexa, why didn’t you say something? I’m sure you have better things to be than to sit here with me listening to me yapping about nonsense.” 

“Not really. And none of it was nonsense, Clarke.” You take your own phone, noticing a couple of Anya’s messages, reminding you that she’s coming to dinner. “I should get going though. Anya’s decided she’s too lazy to both cook and order so she’s coming over for dinner.” 

You both move to stand up, slowly putting your things away and packing to leave, Clarke still murmuring something about nonsense, and you denying it. The conversation moves onto lighter, more teasing things and you end up waiting for her out front when she goes to pay for your drinks, unwilling to say goodbye any sooner than actually necessary because you haven’t felt this good in such a long time and you think if you say goodbye to her before you’re actually ready, you’ll end up moping around your flat and whining throughout the whole dinner with Anya.

Truth be told, you know you’ll end up like that anyway. 

So when Clarke finally does walk out, you smile and stand a little awkwardly, not sure what you’re supposed to do, until she’s suddenly moving in close and her arms slip over your shoulder, pulling you into her embrace and she is close to you, so close that you can smell her perfume and feel her natural scent both mixed and clinging to the skin beneath her ear. 

“Thank you Lexa.” She murmurs into your hair and the low, soft tone of her voice feels like a waterfall of warmth pouring over your body and slowly igniting every fibre of your being. “I mean it.” 

You swallow the words lodged in your throat, the promises that have to go unspoken, the wish and needs you’ll never let her know about, the sweet nothing you wish you could whisper in your ear.

“It’s really not a problem.” You say instead, praying, hoping she can’t feel the thudding of your heart through your light autumn coat. “I should be thanking you for asking me.” 

And really, the appropriate time of an embrace shared by two people who are certainly nothing more than beginners in friendship has far passed and still she clings to you, warm and soft and somewhat pliant as you mold yourself around her and your hands slowly inch further around her waist, tugging her close, closer still, until your nose brushes the thick fabric of her scarf and her hair tickles your cheeks. 

And when she lets you go, mere seconds later, she’s got a blush spreading over her cheeks and her smile lights up her face in a way you haven’t seen before. 

“I’ll call you for a meeting?” She asks, staring up at you with her eyes bright and so,  _ so  _ blue. 

“You’ve got my number.” You smile, feeling the warmth of your own reddening cheeks spreading slowly down your throat. 

“And you have mine, Lexa.” She teases, poking your arm. “You can use it, y’know? That’s what phone numbers are for.” 

You only nod with a smirk and then she’s off, walking back the way you two came and you watch her leave until she glances over her shoulder, throwing you one last smile before she turns a corner and disappears out of your sight.

And you know you’re in trouble, and gods, Anya’s gonna have a field day when you tell her all of this. You probably won’t be telling her about the hug or the way your heart threatened to beat out of your chest and you felt fifteen again. 

Maybe you could bribe her with enough wine and foil her plans to have an interrogation session with you tonight.

* * *

 

Wine, as it turns out, was the smartest idea you’ve ever had. 

It takes a full bottle to have her shut up about Clarke, but Anya eventually ends up falling asleep on your couch and you throw a blanket over her and help her settle more comfortably, you even try to drag her to your spare bedroom but give up when she flings you over your face with her hand in a failed attempt to get up. It’ll probably bruise a little tomorrow and you’re so going to make her pay for it. 

But then you’re walking into your bedroom, stripping off your clothes and slowly making your way through your before-bed routine, toothbrush hanging from your mouth and your hands halfway through a t-shirt, when you realize the worst is about to come. 

In the silence of your room and the calm of the slow, chilly night, Clarke may be out of sight, but is far,  _ far  _ from being out of your mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:  
> Clarke and Lexa start working together, and they inevitably start growing closer together.  
> Lexa learns Anya has some plans for her, and she also goes to a competition with her brightest student.  
> \--  
> disclaimer: my medical knowledge spans as far as having watched a bunch of Grey's Anatomy and the ER and is in no way even remotely good enough to claim that I know what I'm talking about here. All medical talk you've seen and will see is a product of my online research and a large portion is me fitting that plot into the storyline. I've done some studies of musical therapy back in music school so that part is mostly familiar but the rest is fiction + research.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of chapters last month guys, I'll make it up to you with two this month :) here's an early one, mostly a 3k filler to get you more into Lexa's life, we get some sisterly conflict and after this chapter, plot is gonna pick up heavily.  
> enjoy!

It’s been a week since you’ve last seen Clarke and somehow you feel you’ve managed to push her out of your thoughts enough to be able to function properly and not like a lovestruck, smitten highschool boy. 

You’ve been working hard with your students, there’s a school concert coming up in two months and they’re all doing their best and practicing hard, it makes your heart warm just thinking how well they’re doing. You’re proud, truly, because these kids are not just some random people showing up to your lessons, they’re kids you’ve been working with, kids that are eager and willing to learn and practice day after day until they reach a certain level of perfection. In more ways than one, they remind you of you when you were their age and it’s kind of adorable how all of them look up to you not only as a guiding presence of a teacher but as much more too. 

Aden’s been attending more classes, along with his regular scheduled ones, and you’ve actually talked to his mother and asked her permission to hog just a bit more of his time, at his insistence, every other night after he’s done with all his other classes. 

You’d like to think one day you’ll see him walk through the main door of the school with a guitar in one hand a to-go coffee cup in another just as you did some years ago. With those thoughts in your head, your heart swells with pride because each of those kids sometimes feel like your own, and you’d be willing to shout it from the rooftops how proud you are of them.

Clarke still finds a way to your life occasionally, when your phone buzzes with a text message and you realize it’s something random she’s thought of and decided to share with you. More often than not it’s something from the hospital, usually cafeteria nonsense she stumbles upon when working with interns, but then again just last night she sent you a fairly confusing good-night text and you’ve been pondering her words ever since. 

You got caught up in a conversation about your life and ended up telling her how you feel like you’re in a rut and not moving anywhere, no matter how hard you’re trying, despite all the good things happening to you and all the joy teaching has brought, and when you told her you feel like you’re just existing, just surviving, her last message of the night almost erased all your effort of pushing her away from your mind. 

_ Don’t we deserve better than that?  _

Even as Clarke’s message rings through your head as you push your way through your apartment door, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter before you toe out of your shoes and hang your jacket beside the door, you’re trying to come up with an answer to her question, one you’re not sure requires an answer because really, it’s obvious what it should be.

Of course you deserve better than that.

Everyone does.

But the more you think about it - and you’re slightly ashamed to say you’ve spent the whole day contemplating just that - the more you wonder how exactly are you supposed to pull yourself out of this state you’ve been in ever since Costia died. 

It’s not as if you haven’t tried. Not like you haven’t given your all to move on, to get up and start living again. You gave yourself time to mourn the love of your life, you took the time to grieve her loss, and after a while you told yourself it was time to move on. And so you tried, you gave it your best and still, it wasn’t enough. You ended up destroying yourself in the process, you think, with your one night stands, all the alcohol and music gigs that ended up being just another excuse to go out and get drunk out of your mind. And even then, you knew it was just surviving. 

You got better, you admit, you’re back at school, back to doing what you really love, and here and there is a sliver of that old feeling as if everything is back in place and you’re not just surviving from one day to another, but ultimately, at the end of the day you still feel like you only just survived it, but not actually lived through it. 

Maybe it has to do with locking away your feelings, maybe it’s because you haven’t let yourself fall for anyone, or anything, ever since she’s been gone. But after all this time, you’re not sure you even know how to. 

Luckily, Clarke’s name popping up on your phone interrupts you from getting more caught up in your own head and you almost trip over your own feet as you go to grab it from the counter and answer.

“Hey, Clarke!” You mentally slap yourself ‘cause  _ really Lexa, must you sound like a lovesick teenager?  _

“ _ Lexa, hey. _ ” Clarke’s voice is as lovely as ever, if a little breathless.  _ “Sorry, been walking up a long flight of stairs and I’m in literally zero shape.”  _ She giggles, actually giggles and you find it harder than ever to not tell her how much that very sound makes your heart thud. “ _ Remember that meeting I was talking about? The one with the board? _ ”

“Yup, had it?” 

“ _ Mhm.”  _

You can practically hear her grinning and you don’t know if you should be worried or excited by the fact that you can already read her so well. 

“I have a feeling you wouldn’t be calling me if it hadn’t gone great.” You tease and when she laughs, it makes you wanna just teleport to wherever she is, grab her, pull her close and kiss that laughing, smiling face. 

“ _ Of course it went great, Lexa. I’m Clarke Griffin, I can make anything happen.”  _

_ Of course you can, _ you think to yourself but you’ll be damned if your mouth betrays you in such a way. 

“Well then, when do we start?” 

“ _ Actually-”  _ Clarke pauses and it’s only then you realize you’ve been wringing your shirt in your free hand, all nervous and excited and slightly worried.

“Yes Clarke?” 

“ _ The board wants to meet you before we start everything.”  _ She says and it sounds like she was far more worried than you’d assume her to be. “ _ I know you don’t have much free time, what with the competition and your regular classes, and I already showed them all your references and explained why I chose you but well, can’t really go against them and I’m really sorry.”  _

You can’t help it. You were trying, for the past couple of minutes that you’ve been talking to you’ve told yourself not to smile like a lovesick puppy, not to have that silly, doofy grin that you know is present on your face now but after hearing what you just did, how could you possibly not? How when, with everything going on in her life - and in all honesty, it’s far more exciting than yours - Clarke still managed to remember the competition you barely told her a few short sentences about, the fact that your schedule is, in fact, rather busy and really, you may just be seeing far more than there really is but you’re gonna allow yourself to think that she cares about you enough to remember things like that. 

And so what if once in a blue moon you get to have a silly, cheeky, childlike grin because of it? 

You don’t remember much of the rest of the conversation, only that you thanked her at least three times and asked her not to worry, that you agreed on Friday for the meeting because the rest of your week is far too busy with rehearsals and classes and that she told you she’s really happy to be working on the project with you.

And even if it weren’t for Clarke, you’d be thrilled, and you are  _ completely and utterly thrilled _ , to be working on such an important study, but just knowing that Clarke is there, that she thought of you and genuinely wants to work with you makes you giddy as a schoolgirl.

* * *

 

By Friday, you’re a complete wreck again and you’re not sure how you make it to the hospital without crashing your car but somehow you find yourself up on her floor, sitting among her colleagues and discussing her plans for the project.

The meeting you attend is probably the most confusing one you’ve even been to.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but when all the different doctors start throwing medical jargon around, followed by the economists and the actual hospital board with their own different rules and internal laws and of course, the talk of money, you realize you may just slightly be in over your head. 

By the end though, you manage and you really don’t know how but you end up making one doctor swoon over your musical knowledge, one board member asks you for private lessons and another tells you they’ll be sending their child to your school next year. 

It’s all a little too much but then Clarke takes your hand and leads you away from all the  _ snobby, old people _ as she calls them just minutes later, and it was definitely worth it to see her beaming smile when she pulls you in her arms and proceeds to thank you for everything you’d done so far.

She takes you back to your car, laughing all the way to the parking lot and you think this project might be the best thing to happen to you, if it means you’ll get to see her like this some more. Or see her, in general.

“I’ll text you when I get home so we can catch up on that show of yours.” Clarke tells you offhandedly before she leans in and casually pecks your cheek, waving goodbye as she makes her way back inside the hospital. 

You’re left there, standing in the middle of the parking lot, with that same goofy smile and your fingers brushing the spot she’d just kissed.

Yup, a lovesick puppy.

What a fucking cliche you’ve become.

* * *

 

The first working session with Clarke ends up being just the two of you going over some crucial points in her study at a coffee shop closest to the hospital.

Clarke called you over the weekend and asked you to meet her there on Monday and you couldn’t have been happier just from hearing her voice, let alone at the prospect of seeing her. At times you feel like you’re back in highschool again and you wanna slam your head against the nearest wall at the level of pining you’ve managed to brings yourself to. 

It’s a little awkward, when you sit down with her and the whole place gives off a strange, couple-ish atmosphere that makes you squirm in your seat, even more so when the waiter comes over and says you two make a gorgeous couple and Clarke only grins at you in response, chuckling when he leaves after taking your order.

“What?” She asked you, giving you the most mischievous look. “Maybe we can score some free muffins.” 

You end up barking up a loud laugh and in the end the waiter does bring a few small muffins to your table,  _ on the house _ , and Clarke can’t stop beaming with pride as you two walk out laughing. 

“I’ll see you Wednesday?” Clarke asks and you’re already smiling at the thought. 

“Of course, Clarke.” 

Something shifts in her eyes when you say her name and she cocks her head just slightly, giving you a look you can’t really distinguish, before her cheeks redden just the tiniest, barely noticeable bit, and she spins on her heels and heads back to the hospital. She throws you a glance over her shoulder and a small wave and you’re not even ashamed how hard your heart flutters at the small action.

* * *

 

As the doors of your apartment close shut behind you, you groan at the sight of familiar boots set beside them.

“An?” You call out.

“Office!” Anya’s voice comes booming through your apartment and you hurry to get rid of your coat and your shoes because you know your sister’s never up to any good, alone in your apartment.

“What’s all this medical crap?” You hear her ask as you approach the small room you call your office. 

You really should have put those away.

“It’s just some stuff I’m working on with Clarke.” You mumble, hoping she won’t really notice.

“Um, excuse me?” She looks up from the papers she’s currently holding, one eyebrow arched and her gaze inquisitive and all but piercing through you.

You run your hand through your hair, swallowing the groan trying to escape you.

“The project I told you about? The one Clarke asked me to work on with her.” You start and Anya’s still staring at you in complete confusion so you sigh and push past her, plopping down on your chair. “She’s been working on a study for years now and she finally got the green light to start a clinical trial and well, she needs a professional musician and I have a couple degrees so you know, it was a logical choice?” 

“Uh huh.” Anya huffs. “And you just happened to have a lot of free time.” She sets the papers back down where she’s found them, leaning against the side of the desk. “And yet, you can’t make time enough to join your own sister for dinner.” 

“That’s not true and you know it.” 

She raises her eyebrows and you really know better than to argue with her.

“It’s a huge project, An, and I said I’d help you.” 

“I’m almost one hundred percent positive you jumped at the idea of helping Clarke with anything.” 

You try to swat at her arm but she just leans away from your touch, a sly smile on her lips. “I bet you could think of a lot of things to help her out with, right sis?” 

“Anya.” You warn, slowly straightening in your seat. “Clarke is in peeds. This is a study she’s been working on since she got out of school, something that’s insanely important to her and I have the ability to help her, and to maybe help god knows how many children.” 

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” Anya mumbles, pushing herself away from the desk. “I’m just saying Lexa.” 

“What?” 

“You haven’t stopped talking about Clarke, ever since you’ve met her.” 

“So?” You play the confused card, maybe it’ll work.

“So, you’re falling for her.” Anya says, voice even. “Maybe even fallen already.” 

“I’m not falling for anyone, An.” You say, but deep down you don’t even believe yourself and you’re sure Anya won’t really believe your words either. She knows you far too well and in all honesty, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this.

“Like hell you’re not.” She readjusts in her spot, reaching over to ruffle her fingers through your hair, much to your dismay. “What are you gonna do about it though?” 

You roll your eyes. “There’s nothing to do about it because  _ it _ does not exist.” You sigh, knowing full well how stupid you sound. “I’m not falling for Clarke.” 

Anya straightens and walks around the table to be in front of you before leaning over on her hands, staring you down. 

“You know you’re only lying to yourself, Lexa. I know you. You know yourself enough too.” Her eyes remain locked on yours. “You need to woman up and tell her, or give this up because pining like this is doing you no good and if you keep quiet, you’re gonna ruin what little friendship you’ve built with her.” 

You really hate it when Anya sounds exactly like the little voice in your head. Sometimes you actually wonder if it is her voice, instead of your own, that you hear. 

“Anya-” 

“Don’t Anya me.” She says as she turns around, heading for the door. “I’ve got somewhere to be but Lexa, you know I’m right.” 

“You’re not.” You all but growl, fully aware you’re attacking her for saying the truth and it infuriates you even more how you’re such an open book all of a sudden. “There’s nothing there, and you’re making assumptions based on a couple of things I’ve told you.” 

Anya glances over her shoulder just as she reaches the door. “Listen to yourself, Lexa.” She sighs, smirking at you. “I know it’s comfortable right now, but denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.” She quips and heads out of the office, clearly intent on leaving your apartment. 

But her words stir something inside you, push a few blocks of walls apart, the walls you’ve so precariously been building for the past couple of years, and they hit just the right spot, somewhere slightly below your ribcage and god, it physically pains you how right she is. And you hate it, you hate how your heart is on your sleeve, so open and clear, and you can’t even lie to yourself anymore and you’re up from your seat before you can stop yourself, rushing after her.

You catch up just as she reaches the main door.

“You know what?!” You shout at her, knowing that’ll certainly get more than just her attention. “You should stick to your own life and get your nose out of mine! You’re wrong about this and you’ve no idea what’s going on between Clarke and me so don’t pretend like you know what you’re talking about!” You’re yelling by now, consumed by mindless, stupid rage that’s spun deep within your insides, somewhere you hadn’t even known was anything by now. 

Anya huffs, clearly only amused by your display. 

“Watch it, little sis. I might actually bark back.” She only murmurs before she’s out the door, leaving you fuming and angry.

Not with her, though.

When you plop down on the couch and groan with your head in your hands, you know you’re only angry with yourself. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was a little mean with this one.

“Lexa?” 

Clarke’s voice breaks through the fog of your thoughts, bringing you back to the moment and making you flinch slightly at the touch of her fingers against yours.

“S-Sorry.” You mumble, smiling sheepishly.

“Where did you wander off to?” Clarke asks with a soft smile, her hand still warm and gentle on your own, a finger slowly rubbing small little lines over your skin. 

Her touch makes your heart tremble from how soft it is but her words pull you back to the images you’d been thinking about just moments before and you’re reminded, yet again, of that fight with Anya you’d had only a couple of days ago.

She hasn’t called or texted since, and thanks to your sorely wounded pride, you haven’t either and really, you’re missing her terribly, even if it has only been two or three days. You’ve always had a deep connection with your sister, she was your greatest support when you were at your lowest, and her words always meant the world to you.

So it’s really no surprise her words hit so hard and deep as they did - Anya always had a knack for reading you and this time, her predictions are spot on. 

You know you’re falling for Clarke and there’s really nothing you can do at this point. You’ve tried running away from those feelings, pushing them away too, you’ve gone out a couple of times, gotten drunk and brought a different girl to your bed only to wake up in the morning and realize that your heart still feels just as empty and your thoughts had wandered back to Clarke.

The only time you feel the void in your heart filling with anything other than darkness is when your phone buzzes and it’s Clarke’s name on the screen, or her lovely, sweet voice whenever she rings you up just as you’re leaving class, all but begging you to come meet her for some seriously needed afternoon coffee.

For god’s sake, you don’t even drink coffee!

But, alas, another afternoon has rolled around and here you are, at Clarke’ favorite little cafe, sipping a cappuccino and probably looking at her all  _ dreamy and smitten _ , as Anya would put it.

“My gosh,” Clarke chuckles and the rasp of her laugh makes a shiver crawl through you, “Lexa, talk to me?” She half-asks, half-says, looking at you with mild confusion from across the table.

“What?” You ask, having been caught with your head elsewhere yet again.

Clarke laughs now, full and warm laughter spilling down her lips and you’re mesmerized by the sound of it, the rasp in her voice and the way it wraps around your heart and tugs on it, the sight of her head thrown back carelessly and her hair falling all over her face when she doubles over again. It’s a truly beautiful sight, and you’re not sure if you’ve seen anything more beautiful in a long time.

You catch yourself tugging on your shirt as she finally looks back up at you, eyes shining and watery from laughing, lips parted in the prettiest smile.

“Earth to Lexa, you here now?”  

You shrug, sheepishly looking to the side before your eyes meet hers again.

“Sorry, yeah, I am.” 

“I’m sorry if my laughter made you feel uncomfortable.” She says after you shift in your seat. “It was just, you were so adorable, drifting off every few seconds…”

“Oh no, don’t worry, it’s, it’s alright.” You say with a smile. “Thank  _ you _ for being so considerate, actually, others would have already ditched me by now ‘cause I wasn’t paying much attention.” 

“Much?” Clarke teases with an eyebrow raised, the corner of her lips curled in a smirk.

“Okay, at all.” 

She chuckles again and takes a sip of her coffee before repositioning herself in her seat as she puts the mug down. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

And you’re not really sure you do, but you also know that it’s been the hardest time lately, not talking to Anya, and you just want to get it at least a little off your chest. You’ll be careful, you won’t tell Clarke she’s the reason you yelled at Anya, you won’t tell her that you’ve been denying your own feelings so hard your own sister had to yell at you to realize it.

You sigh, leaning over on your elbows.

“I had a fight with Anya.” You say, a little resigned and the look Clarke gives you is making your insides twist just a little.

“Your sister?” 

“Mhm.” You hum with a nod and she leans over too, as if to make the space between you smaller, and a trace of her perfume wafts over you, some flowery, sweet smell that makes your head swim and your mind all heady and fuzzy. “I… It was all my fault.”

“I’m sure you’re not the only guilty party here, if you had a fight.” Clarke says softly. “It takes two to tango, you know?” 

You nod. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I know.” You sigh. “But still, she… I’ve never yelled at her so much. I’ve never been so horrible to her.” 

Clarke reaches out, fingers slowly grazing down your arm. 

“Hey, I’m sure it’ll be okay.” She smiled, soft and radiant, and for a moment you froze thinking how great it would be if you could see that smile every day for the rest of your life. “Wanna tell me what it was about?” 

You blink once, twice, and Clarke smiles then, pulling back in her seat.

“Sorry, I just, I have a tendency to wanna fix everyone and their problems. Doctor complex, I guess.” She chuckles and you can’t help leaning against one of your palms, just staring dreamily at her until you realize she’s staring right back at you and those eyes seem as if they’re reading right through you.

“I uh, it’s a bit personal.” You mumble, unsure how to proceed.

Of course you can’t tell her, despite the fact that this is exactly the moment when you should say something, and Anya would be raving if she knew you had the perfect opportunity like this to tell Clarke you have feelings for her and once again, you chickened out. But you’re not ready, not yet, and you’re not really if you’ll ever be. 

Maybe someday.

“I understand, Lexa.” Clarke says, taking another sip of her coffee, eyes still alight and staring deep into your own. 

“She just, uh, she said something that… Well let’s just say that Anya knows me really well. Sometimes I think she knows me a little too well for my own good.” 

“Aren’t sisters supposed to be like that?” Clarke teases again and the faint line of her smirk peeking behind the coffee mug makes you wanna reach over and press your lips just to that corner of her mouth.

“I guess, yeah.” You shrug. “She had a point though, she always does.” A chuckle escapes you and you don’t even bother stopping it. “I guess she just hit a little too close to home this time and I felt… I felt exposed and afraid and, and vulnerable.” You sigh again, frowning. “She called me out on my bullshit and I was a total dick to her.”

Clarke’s semi-snort makes you look up immediately, catching her as her hand falls over her lips and she tries to stop herself from laughing.

“Oh my god, sorry, it’s just, I haven’t heard you swearing yet and it’s so not you!” She mumbles through laughter and you can’t really help it when your heart seems to expand to the sound of it, pushing against your ribcage all ready to burst. 

You’re sure now. Clarke Griffin will be the death of you. 

“You haven’t heard anything yet, Clarke.” You try to tease her but it comes off just a little too flirty, you think, and she shifts in her seat, her cheeks reddening slightly before her eyebrows shoots up and she gives you a look you can’t really decipher.

But before she can say anything, you decide to move from that conversation and the path it seems to be heading to before you say something stupid and get yourself into more trouble. 

“I should call her.” You say, hastily, watching Clarke watch you, almost as if she’s observing everything about you. “She called me out on my bullshit, she was right and instead of accepting that and dealing with it, I yelled at her and now I feel like a piece of shit.” 

“Lexa-” 

“Though knowing her, it all probably breezed past her like everything usually does and I’m worrying myself into a cardiac arrest for nothing.” 

Clarke smiles, shrugging slightly. 

“Just call her Lexa. I’m sure it’ll all be alright.” 

You nod, sighing. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Clarke smirks, eyebrow raised again and you realize that look is far,  _ far _ too dangerous. 

“When am I not?” 

And you actually roll your eyes at this.

“P-lease.” 

Clarke bursts out laughing and you join her until you’re both interrupted by the sound of her beeper going crazy on the table, next to her coffee mug. Clarke grabs it hastily, eyes scanning over the code and she’s up from her seat before you can even ask her what’s going on.

“I gotta go, emergency,” She mumbles out, clearly having some trouble shoving her things back in her bag and simultaneously trying to take out her wallet so you raise your hand, stopping her.

“Go, I’ll get this and you can get the next one.” You offer a smile and she gives you a look, all warm and soft eyes full of affection and something that you can’t really read and for a moment you think you see something familiar in her eyes but then she’s mumbling another hasty apology and rushing out as you throw a soft ‘see you’ in return and she’s out the door before your thumping heart has a chance to calm down.

Yup, Clarke Griffin might just be the death of you.

* * *

 

You apologize to Anya that same day when you ask her to come over for dinner. She teases you, of course she does, but you know she’s forgiven you before she was even out your door that day you yelled at her.

Still, it feels so much better going to work the day after and having your sister send you stupid puns and ask you when you’re finally gonna leave the house ‘cause you’re starting to grow into the couch. In truth, as much as you put up an offended front, it’s never really bothered you. You know she only means well.

For another week or so, everything seems to settle down a bit. 

Anya doesn’t ask about Clarke, nor do you mention her, even though you know if you said anything, Anya would probably have something to say too. But you’re still mulling over everything, desperately trying to decide between your head and your heart and the longer you wait, the more torn you get. 

Your students seem to be working ever harder, especially Aden, and every class fills you with so much pride and reminds you how great it feels to be a teacher sometimes. 

The only thing that changes are the times you see Clarke. 

She seems a little more distant, if only a little, and you can’t help but notice how the number of messages she sends you seems to trickle down from at least a dozen a day to merely one or two. You tell yourself that it’s how it should be, that it doesn’t bother you at all but really, it bothers you more than you’re willing to admit. 

You only go for coffee twice in the next two weeks and both times Clarke is just a little on edge, a little  _ somewhere else _ and you actually ask her about it, you let your curiosity take over but Clarke only tells you she’s been working longer hours and she’s tired and desperately needs sleep and even if you know it’s not the truth, you let it go because you’re not  _ that close _ to pry and prod further, and you’re definitely not close enough for you to call her out on it. But you do tell her you’re there for her, if she needs anything. 

The sessions with her a little bit different, somewhat more relaxed and seeing Clarke at work makes you realize you love watching her when she’s surrounded by children, all relaxed and warm and gentle in ways you didn’t think possible. It tugs on your heartstrings, this little feeling, and you feel it grow each time you see her, until it fills up all the empty spaces in your chest, making you feel as if it’ll burst if you see her once more without telling her how you feel.

So after two weeks of it all you look at yourself in the mirror on a Thursday afternoon, just minutes before you’re about to leave your flat and head to another session with Clarke and the two patients you’re working with, and at that moment you realize you’ve waited far too long, hidden behind uncertainty for far longer than you should have and really - it’s time.

You’re not really sure if it’s your brain telling you this or your heart finally overcoming your brain but it’s time to finally accept your ever-growing feelings and finally show them. Or at least… At least tell Clarke and be honest about it because if you have to pretend like you’re friends for a moment longer, you’re pretty sure your heart will give out from pure spite of being so overworked and pounding all the time. 

You run the brush through your hair one last time, smirk as you slide your hands down your black vest before adjusting your blazer smoothly over it and checking if your shirt is properly tucked and evened out. You haven’t been this nervous in years and for a moment there, you feel like you’re sixteen again and it’s such a wonderfully exhilarating feeling. 

You nearly forget your guitar as you rush out the door ten minutes later, realizing you might actually be late to something for the first time in your life, and you run back a couple of stairs, groaning when you drop your keys in front of the door and then your hands shake stupidly when you finally do manage to get to the door-unlocking part. It’s all nerve-wracking, but the moment you sit down inside your car and you look at yourself in the rearview mirror, you realize that yes, of course it’s exhilarating and nerve-wracking and your heart feels both full to the brim and as empty as could be because, well, when was the last time you did this? 

When was the last time you allowed yourself to feel, and feel this much? 

Not since Costia. 

And then your thoughts run to her for a few fleeting moments as you leave your parking space and head to the hospital, mind still buzzing with the excitement of seeing Clarke and heart pounding at the thought of finally telling her how you feel. You think Costia would have urged you to do this much sooner, she would have prodded and asked as many questions as you could answer, and she would have pushed you and told you hundreds of time that you deserve happiness and if you think happiness might be Clarke, that you should go and seize the opportunity and just tell her. 

So that’s exactly what you’re gonna do. 

You’re not gonna push your feelings on her, and you’re not expecting her to just up and leave Finn ‘cause some girl she’s been working with has possibly - totally - been falling for her. But you will tell her you have some - so many - feelings for her and that you can’t just ignore them anymore. 

It will certainly complicate things, it’ll make everything harder and weirder and you’re expecting that, you are, but you  _ need _ to tell her because your heart has been begging you for weeks and your brain’s finally caught on and well, it’s time.

Finding a parking spot at the large hospital parking seems to be the hardest of all the times you’ve parked here but after about three circles around you eventually manage to find a spot, and not too far from the entrance too. You slip out fairly gracefully, grabbing your phone and wallet and shoving them in their respective pockets, and you take your guitar from the backseat before you slam the door closed and lock your car, straightening out your vest and blazer one more time and checking yourself in the car window. 

_ You’re being ridiculous, _ Anya’s voice rings in your head and you shift in your spot, glancing around to check if anyone’s seen you and sighing, thankful that you’re seemingly alone.

As you finally turn to walk towards the entrance you see a couple of people hanging about and when a somewhat familiar face walks out the front door you stop in your steps for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go say hi before you slip inside. 

It’s Finn, your brain supplies, Clarke’s boyfriend and the man whose life you’re probably going to make a little bit more complicated, you presume, when you tell Clarke you have feelings for her. It’s not like you want to do it, but it’s also not as if you can go against your heart. Or at least not as if you can go against it any longer without causing yourself some serious mental and emotional damage. 

And besides, life shouldn’t be just about surviving, right? 

Hesitantly, you take a step to walk in his direction and say hi, feeling like a complete bastard ‘cause here you are, about to say hi to a man whose girlfriend you’re planning on declaring your love to. But then you see a woman approach him, one distinctly not Clarke if her dark brown hair is anything to go by, and she slips so comfortably and smoothly in his private space, snugly even as his arm wraps around her hip and she leans in to kiss his cheek and you find yourself a little frozen and a lot confused, standing still until they’ve already walked along the pathway and out of your sight.

What the hell are you supposed to do now?


	8. Chapter 8

“And then you just called her and cancelled your session with her?!” Anya’s voice rings through your living room and you really wish you kept your mouth shut for once in your life. “Lex, I am absolutely certain you’ve completely lost your mind.” She says, letting out an exasperated sigh before she pushes herself off the couch, making her way over to the kitchen. 

“Well what the hell was I supposed to do?! I panicked, okay?” 

She turns around to glare at you.

“You were supposed to go inside and say “ _ hey Clarke, I think your boyfriend might be cheating on you and you should probably look into it _ .”” She turns to peer inside the fridge, groaning when she realizes you’ve not restocked it since the last time she came over and there’s only one beer left. “Not fucking chicken out and literally leave.” 

“Look I just don’t think it’s any of my business, ok? It’s their relationship and-”

“So you’re just gonna keep her in the dark while he struts around with a different woman? Lex, I know you can be a dick sometimes but that’s a new low even for you.” Anya says and she walks back to the couch and plops herself down. “You have to tell her.” 

“I know.” You groan. “I know, okay? I was going to but it’s been five days and the longer I wait the worse it seems and I’m literally the most fucking awful friend, aren’t I?” 

Anya gives you a look. 

“Yep. You kinda are.” 

“Fuck.” 

You know Anya’s right. Hell, she’s more than right and you really were gonna tell Clarke about everything you saw that night in front of the hospital but the moment you saw them leave your brain somehow just froze and all you could do is stand there and stare after them and for the next couple of minutes you weren’t even aware of your existence. If it were anyone else, you’re sure you’d have marched up to them and told them their boyfriend was a cheating piece of shit and offered to beat them up but for some weird, fate-twisted kind of way it just  _ had to _ be Clarke and your brain could not cope with that information. Not right then at all, seeing as you just called her up from the literal hospital parking lot to cancel your session, and apparently not even five days later. 

“What are you gonna do?” Anya asks after she takes a long swig from the bottle.

You sigh, pushing yourself off the couch as you make for the kitchen. 

“I’ll tell her, of course I’ll tell her.” You say and take out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m not a monster and I think she should definitely know.” 

“Exactly.” Anya mumbles.

“I’m just afraid it’ll fuck things up between us. You know, the fact that I knew for five days and haven’t told her.”

“Five days?” 

“I plan on telling her on Friday.” 

“Mhm, yeah, makes sense.” Anya nods, taking another swig of her beer before turning around her shoulder to look at you. “Have you been texting with her?” 

You shrug and set the bottle down on the counter.

“Not really this week?” 

Anya’s brows furrow.

“What do you mean not really?” 

“I mean, she texted me a couple of times, I told her I was either in class or you know, busy and yeah, that’s about it.” 

Anya pinches her nose before glaring at you. 

“And you don’t think she’s noticed something’s wrong?” 

Your arms fly open before you can even stop yourself.

“I don’t know how to be around her with all this happening, okay?! I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to text. I don’t wanna hurt her, that’s the last thing I want and I think-”

“You know what your problem is?” Anya asks before she takes a last swig from the bottle, downing the beer. “You’re overthinking this, just as you’ve always done with everything.” 

You groan but she interrupts before you have a chance to say anything or try and disagree, even though you know she’s right. 

“She needs to know, yes, but it’s not your fault you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Anya says and pushes herself off the couch, heading for the door. “Clarke is a reasonable person, I’m sure, and Raven always says she’s got a good head on her shoulders. I’m sure she’ll understand.” She finishes just as her hands find her coat and she throws it on, slipping snugly in the warmth of it as she burrows through the pockets in search of her scarf and gloves. “Just be honest with her. About everything.”

You sigh and move over to lean against the wall so you can see her better as she fits the scarf around herself and puts on her gloves, giving you a small wave as she opens the door and steps out.

“Woman up sis! I know you still got it in you, somewhere.” 

You give her the finger instead of a goodbye and the last thing you see is her grin as the door shut behind her.

It’s only about five minutes later when you’re rummaging around the kitchen, intent on making some food for yourself that Anya’s words really register in your head and you raise an eyebrow before you’re overcome with laughter. You can’t seem to stop so you just give up on everything until you settle down, grabbing for your phone on the counter and shooting your sister a message, your lips curled in the smuggest of grins.

**Me (6.43pm): So, Raven “always says”, huh? Sounds like you’re getting preeeeetty close, sis ;)**

You think you’ll snapshot, print and frame Anya’s reply that comes only in the form of a middle-finger emoji. Perfect wedding gift, you reckon, grinning to yourself, as you put the phone away and resume your dinner preparations.

* * *

 

Friday comes sooner than you’d planned and somehow you’re already on your way to the session with Clarke, guitar in your hand as you leave your car and walk over the parking lot to the hospital entrance. The few seconds that it takes you feel like such a deja-vu, and it makes you eerily aware of everything happening around you, as if you’re preparing yourself to see Finn again, but this time ready to confront him. 

You don’t see him though and the elevator ride up to Clarke’s floor is a slow and quiet one with a couple of nurses around you, some eyeing you curiously, one giving you what you could only call “the look.” You know it well enough, you’ve seen it before, hell, you’ve given that specific look to other women countless times but right now, with nothing but Clarke and her well being on your mind, no matter how seductively another woman looks at you, it’s really hard to think anything of it. 

The moment you step out of the elevator, you freeze in your steps when you see Clarke standing beside her office door, talking to one of the patient’s mom, with that perfect smile on her face and her eyes all warm and soothing. For a moment you just remain there, standing perfectly still and watching her, just enjoying the sight of her until she glances in your direction from the corner of her eye and gives you a little wave before she shakes the woman’s hand and moves to slowly walk over towards you. 

“Lexa, hey!” She says before she steps closer and pulls you into a warm hug and you panic for a moment, not knowing what to do with your arms but she pulls back before you even have a chance to respond. “Glad to see you back here.” 

“Yeah.” You mumble, rubbing your palm against your pants, suddenly reminiscent of the times when you were a teenage girl with sweaty palms, all nervous around pretty girls. “I’m glad to be back.” 

“Have you had some time to go over the materials I sent you?” 

You nod with a soft smile. “I did and I’ve made sure to be prepared so as far as I’m concerned, we can start whenever.” 

Clarke beams at your words as she reaches out to squeeze your arm. 

“That’s good to hear.” She turns on her feet, glancing over her shoulder at you. “Well the sooner we start, the better.” 

She walks you in the room with the kids you two are working with, and despite yourself, and all the initial fear and anxiety you felt the first time you came over, you’re really starting to enjoy being here. It’s warm and gentle and the kids are truly beautiful and whenever you turn and see Clarke handling one of them something tugs hard at your heart and you’re reminded how much you actually wouldn’t mind seeing something like that, at home. 

The sessions goes by so much faster than you could have imagined and as you finish with the last of your music, slowly strumming some random notes, Clarke moves to sit down next to you, with one of the smaller kids in her arms, cooing something to him as she glances at you and gives you a small smile. 

It takes you a second to realize you’ve actually started leaning in before you manage to stop yourself from making a horrible mistake. By the time you finish playing, Clarke’s already had nurses come inside and take the children back to their respective rooms as she cleans up a little after them, putting away her prompts before she grabs her notes and moves over to the door, leaning against the wall beside it.

“So you coming out tonight?” 

A snort escapes you before you can even bother stopping yourself.

“Been there, done that.” You mumble and god, you’d mumble a thousand stupid lines about coming out if it meant you’d have Clarke laughing the way she does when the words slip from your lips.

“Oh my god I didn’t mean it like that!” She manages to say through her laughter, clutching the notes in one hand and wiping at her eye with the other. “I mean out as in Grounders, you know, with everyone?” 

You zip up your guitar bag and turn towards her, slowly making your way to the door.

“With everyone?” 

“Yeah, Raven, Octavia, I believe your sister will be there too…”

“Well these days wherever Raven goes, Anya will probably be too.”

“Damn straight.”

“Don’t think any of us really are but alright?” 

She smacks at your arm, laughing as your reach her office. “I’m glad you came today.” She says as the laughter subsides, her eyes on yours. “I’ve kind of missed you around here.”

“Yeah, I… I’m sorry about last time, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to yo-”

Just as you finally get to it, finally feel yourself ready to tell her about Finn and possibly about your feelings too, your phone starts ringing in your pocket, blaring through the silence of the hallway and you fumble through your pocket as you fish it out, glaring when you see Anya’s name on the screen. You turn to her to atleast try and apologize but she’s got a sheepish smile as she waves you off and mouths ‘I’ll see you tonight, yeah?’ and really, you’ve learned your lesson and you know you can’t say no so you only nod as she slips away inside her office and you stand there a moment longer before finally answering the call and walking towards the stairs.

“You know you have the worst timing ever.” 

“Don’t tell me, you were about to tell Clarke everything.” Anya says and you can tell she’s barely holding in her laughter.

“As a matter of fact…”

“Wow, well, sorry about it then but you’ll be happy to know you’re coming out with us tonight and you’ll have a chance to explain everything.” 

“Us as in the entity that consists of Raven and Anya?” You quip.

“Asshole.” Anya mumbles and you can’t help but grin. “Look just come to Grounders tonight, okay? Everyone’s gonna be there.” 

You contemplate for a moment but really, you’ve already promised Clarke and what’s another night of pining, right? Besides, maybe you’ll get a chance to finally tell her everything. 

“Fine.” 

“Good, see you later sis.”

She hangs up before you even have a chance to say goodbye so you simply stuff your phone back inside your pocket and hurry to your car because it’s almost eight and if you’re gonna go anywhere, you’re gonna need to look a little more presentable and seeing as you still need to get back to your flat, you’re running very,  _ very _ short on time.

* * *

 

When you get back to your apartment you realize you actually have to hurry if you don’t wanna be too late. The ride from the hospital to the flat ended up being longer than expected, some accident on your side of the road, and you spent nearly an hour longer just sitting in your car, mulling over your thoughts and feelings, revisiting every memory of Clarke your brain has stored somewhere. 

By the time you get home, it’s already past eight and you know you won’t make it to Grounders before ten, even if you could just teleport there. So you decide to take a little bit more time, spending some of picking out an outfit - you end up picking your favourite tight, black jeans and a dark green flannel, as always - and as you make your way to the bathroom, glaring at your own reflection in the hallway mirror, you eye your leather jacket hanging loosely on the back of a chair in the kitchen. 

Perfect.

You’ve never been a shower person though, you prefer baths, so showering actually takes a little under fifteen minutes, solely thanks to the fact that you got lost in your thoughts yet again, your brain clearly wandering off to Clarke at any given moment.

As you lug yourself out and dry off, putting on your clothes quickly ‘cause it somewhat brisky in the flat, the heating off as you left it earlier, you jump around from one foot to the other trying to put on socks when your phone dings with a notification, followed by another, and then a couple more before you actually manage to reach it.

You see a couple of messages from Anya but those are forgotten the second you see one from Clarke asking you if you’re gonna show up or not. Your heart picks up a little at the message and you grin, thinking of her sitting at a booth with Anya and Raven probably going off about something between them and completely ignoring her. Lincoln and Octavia are as sociable as baby penguins so you know there’s really not much help from them.

You shoot her a quick reply, throwing in a picture of your feet with one sock on and another off and immediately get a message back.

**Clarke: cute socks :P hurry up, anya’s trash-talking you**

You laugh out, typing out a quick ‘of course she is’ and continue putting on your clothes, shimmying in your jeans as you throw on the flannel and rush to the bathroom, still contemplating whether or not you should put on some makeup. You decide on the basics - smokey eyes always did look great on you. When you’re done you braid your hair on the sides, smirking at your reflection because  _ damn Lexa, you look good _ . 

By the time you finally get out of the apartment with your phone in one hand and your helmet in another, it’s already fifteen till ten and you’re so,  _ so  _ late you don’t even care anymore. You focus on driving safely, fully aware it’s a Friday night and people are more relaxed, more prone to not pay too much attention on the streets, but you still enjoy the wind whooshing past you as you rev the engine and drive just a little over the limit, grinning when you notice a couple heads turning after you’ve passed them by. 

Grounders is, of course, packed. There’s barely any space in the parking lot and boy you’re glad you decided to take your bike instead of the car because you know you’d have to take another twenty minutes driving around in hopes of finding a space to park. This way you just drive up to the entrance, grinning when the bodyguard gives you a faint nod as he points to the one free spot on the side, much to the dismay of some people hanging out at the front frowning at the both of you.

“Lexa, long time no see.” The burly man, Gustus, says, offering a hand for you to shake.

You take it without hesitation, grinning at his solid and yet soft touch. “Gus, indeed, been a while. How’s the missus? Kids?” 

He grins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trinny’s got herself a girlfriend, said something about hating boys forever the other day-”

You can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes you. “Sounds about right!” 

“And the missus is off to… Oh honestly I don’t know anymore, she’s been working so much lately, we barely see her anymore.” You see the warm curve of his smile falter, the shine in his eyes dampen and you feel for him, you really do. 

You lean in slightly closer, tapping his shoulder. “You know you can always count on me if you need any help, right?” He nods, solemn, as you continue. “You were here every time I needed rescuing… Well mostly from myself but yeah, if you need anything Gus, just let me know.” 

“Will do, kid.” He says, his smile back in place before his head snaps to the side to a group of teenage guys trying to push their way through to the front. “Back off kids or I’m calling your parents!” 

You laugh out again and give him a small nod as he steps aside to let you in. 

If you thought the outside of Grounders was bad, with two rows of people waiting to get into a simple bar on a Friday night, the inside is three times worse. 

It’s literally packed with men and women alike, the music’s loud as the band on the stage plays something loud and rock n’ roll, something sounding an awful lot like Led Zeppelin, and you can’t even see the booth tables from the entrance. It takes you a solid three minutes to reach the bar part and you’re thankful for a few familiar faces at the taps, grinning and pointing to a specific corner of the large space the moment your eyes meet.

“At the jukebox!” One of the bartenders yells, knowing full well what you were gonna ask. “I’ll send someone over with your beer, go on!” 

“And a round of the same for everyone, please!” 

She gives you a nod and goes back to filling up pints of beer, laughing at something one of the patrons said and you turn around to slowly nudge your way to the booth she pointed you to, grumbling every time someone’s shoulder meets your own. You don’t really mind the crowd, not too much but this is probably the most people you’ve seen in Grounders in a long time and in all honesty, it’s been a while since you’ve been surrounded by so many people.

It’s another three minutes until you’re finally able to actually push your way through the throngs of people between you and the booth your sister and Clarke must be sitting at but the second your eyes settle on the familiar group, you feel something within you break and twist in a way you’ve never felt before. Something akin to rage bubbles in your chest, pushing against your ribs as you feel the pressure of it pounding in your head when you realize that Finn is there, sitting right across from Clarke and okay, despite all the denial you’ve put yourself through you knew he’d be there too but - with that woman?! 

You’re pushing through the crowd before you even know what you’re gonna do and one moment you’re raging inside your own head and the next you’re leaning over the table, one hand on it and the other fisting Finn’s shirt as you all but growl at him.

“The fuck do  _ you _ think you’re doing?” You yell as all the eyes around the table instantly turn to you, but you can’t really be bothered to pay them any attention, not when Finn’s staring right back at you with a completely baffled look in his eyes. “You think you’re slick, huh? You think you can just prance in here with this-” You throw a glance at the woman sitting beside him, the same one you saw at the hospital as she gives you a nasty look in return. “How fucking dare you when this gorgeous girl-” You glance at Clarke then back at him, “This beautiful, smart, incredibly fucking kind woman sitting across from you is everything anyone could ever wish for and you’re here, right in front of everyone’s eyes? You cheating piece of shit!” 

And before you can stop yourself you let go of his shirt, only to slam your fist against his face, huffing as you do. You’re about to grab him and drag him out from the booth and outside of Grounders, you’re already reaching for him when you feel both Lincoln and Anya already grabbing at you, with their arms around your own, pinning them behind your back as they drag you away.

They’re saying something, mumbling something about you being a fucking psycho -  _ that was hot sis, not gonna lie, but holy shit you’re a maniac,  _ in Anya’s exact words - and when you finally realize where they’re dragging you and that Clarke is actually trailing after the three of you, you find yourself standing outside in the backyard, huffing and clenching your fists as you glare at Lincoln and Anya.

“Why did you stop me, that fucking piece of shit, I can’t believe-”

“Lexa!” Clarke yells and your head whips towards her, heart nearly seizing in your chest.

From the corner of your eyes you see Lincoln slowly make his way back inside, and Anya’s quick to follow, but not before she ruffles your hair awkwardly and tells you, again, that you’re  _ one crazy bitch  _ but she loves you nonetheless, with that stupid dopey grin of hers. Before you know it they’re both gone and you’re left standing outside in the cold, barely lit space and Clarke is only a couple of steps away from you, hugging herself as she stares at you. 

When you finally look up to meet her eyes, you feel the way your heart skips in your chest, and all air seems to escape you as your throat tightens and tears well up in your eyes. You wanna tell her you’re sorry, that you knew, that you’re the worst friend anyone could possibly have because not only have you been pining after her and you’re supposed to be her friend and coworker, but you even saw her boyfriend cheating on her and you haven’t done shit. 

And you open your mouth to say something, to let at least some semblance of sound out until you find the right words and your anger and rage and sadness let you finally speak your mind, but Clarke moves before any words leave you, a step, two, three and you feel her hands cup your face, palms press softly against your cheeks and her thumbs graze over them and - 

And then she’s kissing you, her lips solid and warm pressed to your own and there’s a moment, a tiny one you’re not sure you would notice if you weren’t so painfully aware of everything around her, a moment that seems to still time, still everything around you and all coherence seems to abandon you but in that singular moment nothing is more important than the girl in front of you, the warm touch of her hands and the taste of her lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... that happened.   
> explanations will be provided in the next chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's an early christmas present from me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> previously:  
> a night out with friends starts rather badly when Lexa realizes Finn and "the other woman" are there too.

You’ve never been certain about too many things in life. You’re a smart person, you like to doubt things, like to look into them, check all the facts and make sure you have all the info before you can actually express your opinion.

But with Clarke’s lips on your own, her warm breath washing over you and her palms pressed tight against your cheeks, you can’t really say there’s any trace of rational thought still left in your brain, at all. Everything’s a blur and yet clearer than it’s ever been, such an agonizingly tantalizing and sweet contradiction that makes you want to pull back and ask Clarke a million questions, wants to ask her all the _why’s_ and _how’s_ , but at the same time you never wants to stop kissing her.

Kissing Clarke is like tiny raindrops on a warm summer’s day, like the first glimpse of a sunset when the colours are all blended from blue to red and back, painting the evening sky, like a cold spring morning when the breeze picks up just slightly and makes you cocoon in your scarf and hat and you feel that tiny bit warmer, just enough to make you the happiest person on Earth until the breeze makes you shiver again.

That’s what kissing Clarke is like, you conclude when you finally catch up, kissing Clarke back with all the fervor and feeling you can muster, hands flying to her hips as you squeeze at the soft fabric of her shirt, barely suppressing a groan when you feel Clarke’s tongue appear for the briefest of moments, grazing over your lower lip before you have a chance to catch it. You don’t bother stopping the small moan that slips from your lips when Clarke’s hands slide into your hair, soft fingers lacing through your curls and you feel blunt nails scratching at your scalp.

It’s intense, it’s deep, deeper than something this new should probably be but it’s also all too short for your liking and you actually catch yourself pouting when Clarke begins to pull back slowly, hands moving back to cup your cheeks as her lips finally slip away from yours. But you end up chasing them anyway, feeling like a lost traveler in a desert, chasing after a mirage in hopes of getting just a sip, nothing more.

You think you’d probably be satisfied with just a second longer of kissing Clarke. Maybe a couple trillion more seconds too.

Nevertheless, Clarke stops you with a soft hand in the middle of your chest, just above the space where your heart is hammering away like crazy, your breathing uneven and short as she remains close still, resting her forehead against yours.

“Damn.” You half-whisper, hands a little shaky on Clarke’s hips as your fingers grasp at the fabric and softly dig into skin. “Clarke, I-” You start but Clarke shushes you again and presses your lips together for another kiss, albeit one that’s truly far too short, before she pulls back fully, slipping out of your grasp.

“Lexa.” She says, voice thick and a little shaky. “I, I’m sorry for kissing you without your permission.” She mumbles, staring at the floor. “I-”

“You’re welcome to repeat that whenever you want.” You quip in quickly, lips curled in the smallest of smirks when you catch Clarke’s eye. But you don’t expect her to come closer again, to take the two steps that separate you, but Clarke still does, her hands flying back your face, as if she’s somehow drawn to you.

“God, you’ve no idea how much I want to…” Clarke murmurs, shaking her head a little before leaning up for a quick, soft peck. “No, god, no, we need to talk first.” She seems to shake out of her own thoughts, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Don’t you want to talk?”

And you do, you really do. But you can also think of at least a dozen other things you’d much rather be doing with Clarke right now. Actions speak so much louder than words anyway, right?

Still, ever the one to calm your own wildly beating heart you nod, albeit slowly, biting your bottom lip as you stare into Clarke’s eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right, I do want to talk, I need- I need some sort of explanation for whatever just happened. And the whole thing inside, oh god, what did I do, what did _he_ do?!” And then you’re back in your mind again, thoughts coursing through your head, flashing like neon signs as your hands slip away from Clarke’s form and you clench them into fists, thinking about Finn still sitting inside. “Clarke I’m sorry but he doesn’t deserve being here, how can you-”

“Lexa, Lex, hey.” Clarke finally speaks up, her voice much firmer this time as she squeezes your face slightly, just enough for you to snap back to those beautiful, big blue eyes staring so intently at you. “Please calm down, okay? You’re getting all worked up again.”

You barely stop yourself from growling at her words but still end up huffing.

“Clarke, please, I know what I’m-”

“No, hey just, please, will you just listen to me? Give me a few minutes to explain, okay?”

You finally look at her, really look at her as you allow your eyes to truly meet, and you find yourself nodding mere seconds later, all speech somehow taken from you at the sight.

“Finn has every right to do whatever he wants to, with whomever he wants to.” Clarke says quickly, getting straight to the point without a single smidge of hesitation, it seems. “We broke up, Lexa. Finn isn’t the bad guy you think he is.” The moment the words leave her lips, you feel immense panic slip into your chest, immediately followed by remorse until there’s a heavy brick of guilt just sitting on your shoulders as you wrack your brain over the words that just left Clarke’s lips. “Well, not so much at least.” Clarke quickly adds.

You open your mouth to say something but Clarke beats you to it, pressing a finger to your lips.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, I was sorting everything out in my head and I needed a bit more time and well, I didn’t exactly expect you’d go and try and beat him up.”

You let your head fall as your own hand flies up to your forehead, fingers rubbing at the temples. Still you let Clarke continue, looking up expectantly.

“I know this is all very vague and all but, Finn and I are a very long story and, as much as I want to share it with you right now, god, I really do, but I want to do this,” gesturing to the space between you two, “Right.” She worries at her bottom lip and really, you can’t help but find it utterly adorable. “If there actually is something here and I wasn’t completely misreading the signs.”

“You weren’t!” The words fly out of your mouth before you even realize it, mentally patting yourself on the back for actually speaking up this time. “You weren’t.” You say it again, this time a little more controlled. “I’d very much like _this_ to be something.” You say and gesture to the same space..

“Yeah?” Clarke asks a little shyly, fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.

You nod and step in, brushing your nose to Clarke’s. “Yeah.” You murmur, pressing your forehead to hers.

You let silence finally take over, content to simply bask in Clarke’s presence and the newfound knowledge that everything you’ve been hoping for, everything you thought you’d imagined hasn’t actually been a figment of your imagination but actual, true feelings manifesting between the two of you. But as comforting as it is, the silence soon grows slightly uncomfortable and you begin pulling back but not before brushing your nose against Clarke’s again, smiling when Clarke lets out a soft hum and follows after your lips.

When you’re finally a few inches apart, your hands slip away from Clarke’s hips and  you watch as she rubs her palms against her pants.

“So… Finn and you broke up.” You say, finally able to string a few words together and form a coherent enough sentence. “Has it been long?”

Clarke moves to lean back against the building wall.

“Three weeks, more or less?” She half-asks, glancing away as if she’s trying to make sure what she said was the truth. “Yes, three weeks since we finally gave up on trying.”

You hug herself, moving back to lean against the opposite wall, feeling as if being close to Clarke, even if you aren’t doing anything, will make you completely combust. There is so much friction between the two of you, tension you could cut with a knife and the little distance you can get, you desperately need.

“Finally gave up?”

Clarke chuckles, looking up at you.

“It’s actually been over for a while between us.” She says, scratching her arm before she slips her hands inside her jean pockets, squirming in her spot for a moment. “We talked about breaking up nearly four months ago. But we’ve been together for so long, we thought we could fix it, you know? We thought if we tried harder, we’d get through whatever it was that settled between us and we’d be Clarke and Finn again.”

You nod but remain silent, letting Clarke speak.

“Didn’t really work out.” Clarke shrugs. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much we wanted it to.” She glances to the side, a sigh escaping her lips. “Sometimes you fall out of love and sometimes it doesn’t work out. And it’s okay.”

You can’t really stop yourself, and you don’t want to, when your brain starts yelling at you to just go and hold her, say something or be there in any way other than just standing there a few feet away, unmoving and unresponsive. So you push yourself away from the wall, cross the few feet between the two of you and bring your hand slowly to Clarke’s side, waiting for her to look at you before placing it softly on her hip and pulling her in, your other arm winding around Clarke’s shoulder and fingers splaying through her hair as you let Clarke rest against you.

“I know.” You murmur, fingers brushing through Clarke’s hair. “And you’re right, it’s okay. Sometimes it’s just not meant to be.”

Clarke pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Happened to you?” She asks and from this new corner, even in the dimly lit alley you finally see the tears brimming in her eyes, begging to spill over.

So you contemplate for a moment, deciding the truth of Costia is a matter for a different occasion, something you want to tell Clarke so badly about but not now, not when Clarke is already so close to breaking down.

“More or less.” You murmur after a while of silence, pulling Clarke back in your embrace and letting out a soft hum when her arms slip down to your waist and your feel them lace at the small of your back. “I’ll tell you all about her some other time.” You add, smiling when you feel Clarke nod against your shoulder.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you.” Clarke murmurs, arms still tight around your waist, her words slightly muffled by your shoulder. “Finn and I haven’t been okay for a long time now but we kept holding on to something that felt familiar and safe and we just didn’t know how to finally say goodbye to each other.” She leans her head on your shoulder then, her warm breath caressing the skin of your neck. “We officially ended things three weeks ago, but it’s been a lot longer.”

You feel her sigh, the warm puff of air breathed into your skin sending tingles down your spine.

“It’s okay, I… I don’t know if it’s something you had to explicitly share with me. At least not until you were ready. Which you clearly weren’t.” You say, feeling awfully terrible for the whole ordeal, especially now that you can think back on the moment you walked inside Grounders and the jealousy that stirred deep within you that actually got you to punch Finn in the face. God, you will have to apologize to the man profusely.

“No, it’s really not okay.” Clarke says before finally pulling back from your embrace, letting her hands slide to your own and she holds them. “It’s not okay because I felt something that first night we met, Lexa. I felt it and I think you felt it too and I should have been honest with you and Finn and mostly myself at least from that point on but I just-” She lets go of your hand to run her fingers through her hair before her hand promptly slips back to your own. “I was afraid.”

“Of?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“Change, I guess.” She sighs before continuing. “I knew if Finn and I finally admitted that it was over between us, I’d have to say goodbye to something I’ve grown so comfortable with, something that’s been a part of me for over five years.” Clarke finally says, looking into Lexa’s eyes. “And I’d have to brace myself for the inevitability and the unknown of everything that comes with you.”

You hum, simply nodding softly to Clarke’s words.

“Finn and I actually talked the night after the party and back then we decided we’d give ourselves one last try. None of our friends knew, that’s why Raven had no clue and she never could have told Anya so I suppose that’s how it never actually got to you.” Clarke chuckles a little awkwardly but you choose that moment to let go of her hand, opting to cup her cheek softly instead, smiling at her. “A month ago we talked again, he told me he’d met someone and he wanted to see where it was going and well, I said I was sort of, uh, sort of getting these feelings for you-” She meets your eyes, only to smirk and laugh softly a moment later when she sees the adoring, smitten expression you must be wearing because - really. “Anyway, that was basically when we ended things. I guess you could say it was completely official a week later when he gave me back my things and I gave him back his and, well, that’s it?”

You want nothing more than to simply envelop the woman in your arms but also run inside and apologize profusely to Finn probably still sitting inside with a bloody handkerchief and, if not a busted nose, certainly one in quite a lot of pain. You always did pack a mean punch.

“Well I feel like a right dick.” You sigh instead, still holding Clarke close. “I overreacted in the worst way possible. I mean I literally gave a bloody nose to a completely innocent guy.”

Clarke chuckles against you and it warms your heart a little, the way it thrums and spreads through you.

“I actually think it’s kind of both a little terrifying and adorable how you swooped in like a knight in shining armor, ready to defend my honor.” You scoff and Clarke pulls back to look at you with a wide smile. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you if you just say you’re sorry.”

“Just for the record, I’m not a violent person. But there’s just something about cheaters that gets to me and I’m really into you and couldn’t even imagine him cheating on you without my insides boiling with rage.” You clenches your fists, fingers digging into your palms until Clarke slips out of your embrace and grabs at your hands, gently prying the fingers away and entwining them with her own.

“Hey, I know, I know.” She coos, pulling one of your hands back to her hip as she reaches up with her now free hand, cupping your cheek. “I get it and I don’t blame you. Maybe you were a bit rash but I kind of knew you had some feelings for me and I should have told you so if this is on anyone, it’s on me.”

Your eyes widen at that. “You knew?”

Clarke grins right at you, smile as wide as the ocean in her eyes. “Well you’re not really subtle, you know?” She murmurs, much to your dismay. “And I wouldn’t say I was either, I mean, coffee dates? Movie nights? Nearly 24/7 texting?” She chuckles, glancing to the side before she brings her other hand to your cheek. “You kind of wear your heart on your sleeve sometimes and to be honest, I really like that about you.”

Your cheeks flush at those words and you hum when Clarke tilts her head up, lookign at you a little expectantly. So you close the remaining distance still left between you, kissing her softly as you tighten your hold around her waist.

“Yo, lovergirls!”

 _Ah, Anya’s perfect timing,_ you think as Clarke quickly scurries out of your grasp, her cheeks flushed as she moves to straighten her shirt, clearly avoiding any eye contact with either you or Anya just a few feet away, laughing at the both of you from the door.

“You coming back inside any time this century or are you just gonna keep smooching in the dark?”

You groan, much to Clarke’s amusement as she clearly can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from her lips at Anya’s words.

“We’re coming!” You shout back and cringe not even a second later when you realize what you’ve just said and Anya’s retort comes flying your way as she ducks back inside.

“Keep that for the bedroom!”

“Well, I’m mortified for life.” Clarke mumbles through laughter, one hand on her hip and the other pressing against her forehead as she tries to rein herself in. You know you’re not helping when you step in close and slip a hand underneath her chin, prompting her to look up at you, making her squirm as the flush in her cheeks turns an even darker shade.

“Sorry about her.” You murmur, moving your other hand to push away a stray lock of hair out of her face, tucking it softly behind her ear. “She can be an idiot sometimes. Apparently also twelve again.”

Clarke chuckles at your words, lips spreading in the widest smile when you both finally manage to settle down. She reaches up, curling her hand behind your neck and bringing your lips to hers as she kisses you slowly, with a softness you only thought could happen in dreams. But all too soon she’s backing away and you chase after her lips again, desperate trying to hold on to the feeling of them on yours but she huffs a small laugh at you and your pout before speaking again.

“Maybe we should head back inside, it’s been a while.”

You nod at her words but not before your restless thoughts find their way to the surface again.

“What… What do we do about this little mess we got ourselves in?” You ask as you slowly start walking back to the entrance, making sure your steps are as small as you can make them, not really wanting to go back inside when all you want is right out here and stalling for more time is something you’re slowly getting more proficient at.

Clarke stops in her tracks, reaching for your hand as she prompts you to turn around and face her right beside the back door.

“What do you want to do about this? About us?” She asks you, grabbing your other hand as she entwines her fingers with yours and you see her bite her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth and making you squirm ‘cause _daaaaamn_.

“I want you.” You say, no reservation, no fear, no hesitation as the words slip from your lips freely.

“Well, in case I haven’t made it clear enough.” She murmurs right back before pulling you closer and pressing her lips to yours in a chaste, quick kiss right before she deepens it, tugging your lip between her own and brushing her tongue over it as she pulls back with a smile. “I want you, too.”

You sigh, the dopiest of smiles spreading over your lips.

“I’d love to take you out.” You say and let go of her hand to tuck a curl of blonde hair behind her ear. “If it’s too soon, I’ll understand and I’ll wait but I just want you to know that.”

You watch her lips widen in a smile matching your own.

“I’d really love that.” She leans into your touch, cheek pressing against your palm. “We can take things slow?”

You nod before leaning down to kiss her once more before you finally part and make your way inside with her right behind you. The second you step back inside, the bartender gives you a stern, serious look and you go over to apologize for the fuss, explaining in the least possible amount of details what transpired earlier. You’re lucky you’ve known him for so long and he simply taps you over your shoulder, laughing as he mumbles something along the lines of “ _what we do for girls, yeah?”_ and you can’t help but laugh as well ‘cause he’s totally got a point.

When you finally make it back to the table everyone seems to be sitting a little stiffly, only Clarke gives you a warm look and taps the free spot beside her but you shake your head and glance over to Finn, clearing your throat.

“I’m very sorry for my actions Finn, I was… Mistaken.” You say and offer him your hand, hoping your apology is enough for now. He looks at you, then at your hand, then back at you and for a few moments there’s nothing but silence at the table, with the band still playing on the stage and people around you all loud and cheery but then he grins at you, smile wide and silly and he gets up, shaking your hand.

“We’re good Lexa, we’re good.” He says before suddenly tugging you close and whispering so only you can hear. “But you better be crazy about her ‘cause she’s one hell of an amazing woman and I sure as hell ain’t taking no punches from someone who’s not head over heels for her.” He pulls back, his grin still in place as he glances to Clarke for a moment, gives her a curt nod before settling back in his seat and turning to the woman beside him as her gives her a small peck on the cheek.

You mull over his words for a moment, feeling something churning inside her, embers of the fire you walked into Grounders with, but then you realize he’s not trying to start anything, he’s not even riling you up but his words are merely friendly teasing and if you almost feel like he’s giving you some sort of weird kind of appraisal?

Either way, you finally slide down to sit beside Clarke, much to Anya’s and Raven’s amusement who seem to barely be able to contain their laughter. But all thoughts perish when Clarke’s hand slips to your leg and she squeezes just above your knee, making you turn and look at her.

“You okay?” She asks, loud enough only for you to hear.

You nod, smiling at her before you turn to the whole group.

“Okay you bunch of nerds, drinks are on me!” And then you’re up on your feet, waving towards the bartender and yelling over the music as laughter settles back into the group as conversations pick up again.

Finn introduces you to the woman he’s dating, Clarke teases you about your nerves, Anya’s giving you the smuggest of looks even though you already have more than enough material for teasing just from looking at the way Raven sits so close to her, seemingly unaware of everyone else at the table.

And when Clarke’s hand settles back on your leg and she gives you a little squeeze, your eyes meeting hers as her smile greets you, you know your luck is finally turning and things are starting to feel right again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's a little something to keep you guys interested. for more stuff, holla at me on tumblr @kittymannequin

If you were to say you love taking things slow, it’d be a monumental lie. 

You hate it. You really do. This whole thing, taking it slow with Clarke, it’s driving you crazy at an alarming rate and you’re actually worried how much you truly care, if you’re already so affected. 

You’d love to speed things up a bit, move it all up a notch and finally be able to call her your girlfriend, pamper her and shower her with love as much as you crave, but she’s still a little hesitant and you respect her wishes, so you’ll give her as much time as she needs, even if kills you, glance by glance, touch by touch, kiss by kiss. Taking things slow sure sucks.

“Hey you.” Clarke murmurs approaching you as her arms immediately slide up around your neck and she brings you in close, pressing her lips to yours. “I’ve missed you.” She hums into your lips, peppering soft kisses over them as you take her in.

“Hey.” Rolls down your lips as you bring her closer, your arms snaking around her ways, fingers meeting at the small of her back. “It’s been two days.” You tease, grinning when she huffs at your words.

“Two days too long.” 

“Smooth talker.” 

Clarke begins to pull back, not before kissing you once more, and her hand falls down your arms to catch onto yours, fingers lacing with your own. 

“How was the competition yesterday?” She asks as the two of you make your way down the street, heading for the coffee place you’ve been meeting her for coffee at for the past couple of months. “How did Aden do?” 

Her question warms your heart and you barely manage to push back the need to just grab her by the waist again, lift her up in your arms and kiss her till you both can’t breathe. You’ve barely known each other for a few months and you’ve only just begun to spend quite a fair amount of time together and it somehow still surprises you when she asks you things like this, when she wants to know more about you, how you feel, how you’re doing, what you’re really thinking about deep inside. You’ve missed someone caring so deeply for you.

“He won.” You say, smiling at her when you feel her squeeze your hand. “He was so good, Clarke, you should have seen him. I’m so proud of him.” 

“I’m really happy for him, Lex. And for you.” 

You’re about to gush a little more about your best student and how he rocked the latest competition you took him to, how you’re so proud of him because you don’t just see yourself as his teacher, you literally see yourself in him and feel like a true mentor, proud and loving of your student, but you only manage to let out a quiet ‘ _ oomph’ _ when something firm slams straight into your free side, knocking you back a bit and nearly making you stumble backwards.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t lo- Lexa?” 

The voice sounds familiar, you know so much, and when you finally manage to catch yourself and steady, with Clarke’s firm and helpful hand, you turn to meet the woman’s eyes, internally groaning because really, of all times.

“Lex it really is you! Long time no see, huh?” 

“Uh, hey, Valerie, yeah, been a while.” 

“How have you been? Haven’t seen you around much, where’ve you been?” 

You bring your free hand up to the back of your neck, scratching slightly, before you feel Clarke squeeze at your other hand gently and you give her a sideways glance, taking in her warm smile before you turn back to the woman right before you.

“I’m okay, just a little busy with work and just… Things.” You mumble out, wishing you could facepalm yourself without them seeing because you haven’t sounded this silly in ages. “How are you? Everything good?” 

“Everything’s great! I just got promoted yesterday so we’re going out to celebrate on Friday, you think you could maybe make it to Grounders?” The woman shifts in her spot, leaning slightly towards you and you’re not sure if she’s genuinely missed the fact that you’re holding Clarke’s hand or if she’s just purposely ignoring it. 

You’re definitely offput by her behaviour, in more than one way, and judging from the way Clarke’s squeezing your hand, she’d definitely not comfortable either. So you raise your hand, the one holding Clarke’s, and you give Valerie the biggest smile you’ve got.

“Actually my girlfriend here and some friends are going out on Friday so I’m not really sure where we’ll end up, right Clarke?” It’s a risk, really, and you hate yourself a little for doing this all backwards, but in reality calling Clarke your girlfriend has got to be the best thing to come out your mouth lately. 

“Yup.” Clarke grins at you and leans up to press a short peck on your cheek before turning to Valerie. “Hi, I’m Clarke.” She gives her a little wave with her free hand and you don’t even try suppressing the smile pushing past your lips. 

“Oh.” Valerie seems pretty shocked by both of your words and you see her take a step back, trying to find her words.

“We’re actually in a bit of a rush,” You hurry to add, pulling Clarke along, “Finally managed to find some time for a coffee date so I guess I’ll see you around?” 

Valerie only manages to nod before you’re both pushing past her, leaving her gaping as Clarke leans into you and wraps both her arms around yours, peering up to press another kiss to your cheek. It’s only after a couple of minutes after you’ve sat down and Clarke’s burst out laughing that your anxieties finally bear down on you and you squirm in your seat until Clarke notices and reaches out to take your hand.

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I’m sorry about that.”

“About what? The random girl you clearly had a thing with probably way before we even knew each other?” 

“Yeah, that. And for calling you my girlfriend.” You bring your free hand up to rub behind your neck. “I, I know we’re not yet official, I mean uh, not that I want to assume anything though I am kind of hoping that’s the direction we’re going in-” 

“Lexa.” Clarke says before you see her pushing out of her seat and moving to settle down beside you. You’re deeply thankful to your brain for picking a booth seat. “You’re going into overdrive.” She smiles at you and reaches up, pressing her hands to your face and pulling you close. “You don’t have to apologize for your past, certainly not to me. We’re both adults, I’ve had my things, you’ve had yours, it’s all perfectly normal and okay.” You nod, giving her a chance to continue. “And I also don’t mind you calling me your girlfriend. Even though we’re not really, as you put it, official yet. But I’d like to make it official at some point.” 

She smiles before leaning in and pressing your lips together, kissing you softly as you kiss her right back, sliding your hands to her waist. You feel her smile and before you know it she’s pulling back, much to your dismay, but when she chuckles at your little pout it’s not that bad. You’re pretty sure you could listen to her chuckle and laugh all life and you wouldn’t tire of it. 

“I wanna take you out. On an actual date.” You say. 

“Before we… Seal the deal?” Clarke teases and you roll your eyes at her. 

“Clarke.” You half-groan, leaning into her slightly as you press your lips to her neck, but only long enough so you can brush over the soft, delicate skin there and inhale the sweet scent that is Clarke. “I want to do this right.” You murmur into her skin, feeling stupidly proud when she shivers a moment later. 

When she pulls back just barely enough to meet your eyes, she’s got the sweetest smile spread over her lips.

“We want the same thing, Lex.”

“Yeah?” 

“Definitely.” She says before pressing a short little, chaste kiss to your lips and pulling away fully. “Okay, I don’t have long for coffee so we’re gonna have to go over our next session plan really quickly.” She murmurs, pulling out a stack of papers from her bag and placing them on the table. “You sure you’re up for this right now? You seem a little tired.” She looks at you, concern written over her features and it kind of warms your heart in ways you’ve forgotten about when she reaches out to tuck away a stray strand of your hair back behind your ear. 

You don’t remember the last time someone’s done something similar to you. You’d find it funny how such a small thing can be so significant if you didn’t know yourself better.

“I’m sure. Clarke.” You give her a small smile. “It’s been a long couple of days but nothing a cup of coffee and your presence won’t solve.” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow, nudging your shoulder with her own.

“Smooth.”

* * *

 

“Okay, I’m here, what’s the emergency?” Anya asks as she plops herself down on the couch, looking at you expectantly as she crosses her legs.

“I need advice.” 

“What kind of advice?” 

“Girl advice.”

She’s in the middle of taking a sip of her bear and you watch her visibly freeze for a moment before sputtering, barely managing to avoid spilling it all over herself as she all but jumps up and rushes to the kitchen to grab something to wipe her chin. 

“Excuse me?” She looks at you in shock as she sets the bottle down on the kitchen island and approaches you. “Mind saying that again ‘cause I’m pretty sure I heard you wrong.” 

You roll your eyes at her.

“Last I remember, you weren’t deaf.”

She smacks you over your arms, glaring at you.

“Ow, fine, it’s Clarke, okay? I- I need some advice about Clarke.” 

There’s a moment of silence that stretches for a little while and just as you think she won’t actually say anything, she finally opens her mouth. 

“Well, colour me shocked.” 

“I knew I should have kept quiet.” You groan and mutter as you try to walk away but feel her hand wrap around your wrist as she tugs roughly, forcing you to sit down on one of the high chairs. 

“Oh no, you don’t.” She says, almost angrily, before taking a long swing from the bottle and turning back to you. “You need girl advice, concerning Clarke.” She says, as if assessing the situation even though you’re pretty sure she’s just repeating it to mock you. “That is Clarke Griffin we’re talking about, right?” When the corner of her lips quirks up in a smirk, you know she’s mocking you. 

“Anya, come on!” You whine, moving to lean over the counter as you rest your head in your hand. “I don’t know what to do, how to do this… This whole dating thing!” 

“So you’re dating Clarke?” 

“I… I guess? I mean, I don’t know? We haven’t actually defined anything yet?” 

“Hm, okay, let’s see - are you texting her? More than before?” 

“I guess?” 

And as if right on cue your phone buzzes and you see the screen light up with Clarke’s name, and Anya chuckles immediately. 

“Have you seen her since the whole bar incident?” 

“A couple of times?” 

“Just for the sessions?” 

“No. Coffee, we went to the movies a couple of times and she came over for dinner once because I was too tired to go out and she said she wanted to make sure I rest, but I also wanted to spend some time with her so we compromised?” 

This time Anya doesn’t even have a time to stop herself from laughing.

“So what exactly do you need my help with?” 

“Well, uh, I wanna ask her out on a date?” 

Anya looks fairly puzzled by your question.

“Um, you know, a date? Dinner, movie, maybe uh, I don’t know, dancing or something equally cheesy? Walk around the park or by the river? I just… I just don’t know how to do this whole thing…”

“Lex.” Anya says, prompting you to look into her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

“What? Come on, don’t be a dick, I’m genuinely lost here!” You whine again, groaning when she keeps laughing.

“No, seriously, you’re an idiot!” She mumbles through laughter before finally moving away from you to rest against one of the kitchen counters. “Please tell me you’re joking ‘cause I can’t seem to get it how you’re the smarter sister and yet you’re a dum dum who hasn’t noticed she’s been dating a girl for a month?” 

“Uh, what?” Anya’s words breeze through you like a hurricane and you actually grip the counter, steadying yourself in the chair as you try to make sense of them, staring, one moment at her the other somewhere, anywhere around yourself, before realization finally hits after a couple of minutes of silence. “Oh my god, you’re right.” You mumble, lowering your head on the counter, just barely soft enough not to give yourself a bruise in the middle of your forehead.

“Of course I am.” She says through a chuckle, moving to pat your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, sis, I’m pretty sure Clarke’s figured it out already, she just probably didn’t want to get you into overdrive.” 

“Oh my god.” You groan out, remembering your little talk with her at the coffee shop, now already three weeks ago. “I’m such an idiot.” 

Anya laughs again before you hear her downing the bottle and placing it back on the counter as she makes her way around the apartment and you lift your head just in time to see her putting her jacket on.

“Well, I have to run ‘cause I’ve got a meeting in an hour and I think this crisis is resolved, unless there’s something else you need help with?” 

You give her your best middle finger, groaning when her laughter is the last thing you hear before the front door clicks shut behind her.

* * *

 

It’s been nearly two months since you freaked out at Finn at the bar and then proceeded to spend twenty minutes making out with Clarke outside. You’ve yet to talk to her about what the two of you are actually doing, even though you told her you wanted to do things right and at some point she said she doesn’t want to rush things either and yet, somehow, you’re pretty sure you’ve been dating all this time.

You’re not seeing anyone else, you think - you hope - she isn’t either and your little chat with Anya made you realize you’ve been a complete idiot, doing exactly what Clarke told you not to do.

As usual, you’ve been overthinking everything.

You figure, in order to stop yourself from going into overdrive with the amount of thinking about what you and Clarke really are, you’re going to just sit down and have a serious talk with her, no matter how long it takes and no matter how tempting it is to be in her presence and not spend the whole time just kissing her.

Which you really want to do. All the time. 

You’re sitting at the cafe where you usually meet up with her, nervously tapping your fingers over the table, your eyes shifting from the window to the door and occasionally you glance over at the bar where the waitress seems to have her eyes glued to you, blatantly staring at you. It’s nothing new, you’ve known from the first day that she’s got a thing for you and she’s made it pretty obvious, but it’s literally the last thing on your mind, what with all the thought of Clarke always taking over. 

It’s not that the girl isn’t pretty, or doesn’t seem smart and funny and whatnot but - you can’t really get yourself to look at, let alone think about someone else when Clarke has been everything you’ve dreamed of ever since you had that first half-drunken conversation with her back at Bellamy’s party all those months ago.

Thinking back on it, you’re actually really grateful you got so buzzed that night because otherwise you wouldn’t have ventured out into the backyard alone, and she wouldn’t have noticed or followed you and you’d probably still be just as miserable and sad as you used to be.

You’re still sad and lost sometimes, and some days are harder than the other, but ever since Clarke’s been crowding your thoughts, everything around you feels stupidly warmer and brighter. 

Much like the cafe when you finally hear the bell above the door ding as it flies open and Clarke rushes in with her cheeks all rosy red and her oversized scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders. It all makes that much more sense when her eyes light up as they meet yours and she hurries to your table, slipping the scarf off and grinning like a fool.

“Hey you.” She says as she plops down next to you, making you scootch to the side but not before she leans over and presses her cold lips to your cheek, making the already warm skin there feel much,  _ much  _ warmer. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been three days, Clarke.” You murmur, smirking when she rolls her eyes at you.

“Yeah well, three days without seeing you is kind of becoming too long, okay?” 

The way she asks you that tugs at your heart and you can’t help but slip your hand atop of hers, fingers lacing with her own. It’s feels as if she’s asking you if it’s okay to miss you even after such a short time and maybe before you’d have thought it foolish, and maybe you still think it’s somewhat silly but then again - you’ve been missing her like crazy and you really can’t argue with your own heart and now your head any longer. And really, this is just another reason more for your to finally admit to yourself that Anya’s been right and you have, indeed, been dating Clarke all this time. 

So instead of giving her an answer you simply nod, just barely, and then lean in to press your lips against her when you see a hint of that sweet smile at the corner of her lips. 

“I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about something.” You say when she pulls back, giving you a curious look though you don’t give her enough time to actually say anything before you continue. “Are we, uhm, are we dating?” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow at you.

“I’d like to think we are?” 

“No, I… I mean, are we together? Is this? Is this us really dating? Actually being together?” 

“Lex, have you been overthinking things again?” She smirks and sticks her tongue at you just as the waiter arrives to take her order. She decides on her usual, chocolate cappuccino, and as he walks away she turns her whole body towards you, placing her hands on your leg. “All jokes aside, Lexa, I know we agreed on taking things slow but the only thing we’ve been doing that with is sex.” She says, the corner of her lips twitching in a smirk. “And don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that, it’s a whole other level of intimacy which I really don’t want to rush with you but everything else?” She tilts her head, reaching out to grasp for your hand. “Yep, we’re definitely dating. Definitely together and been at it for the past… Nearly two months?” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Yeah I mean, I was gonna ask you out on our first date this weekend but um… I guess we’re past that?” 

Clarke chuckles, leaning into you. 

“Way past it Lex. But I wouldn’t mind it if you still wanted to do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Definitely. In fact, I’d love it.” She tilts her head up to press a small kiss to your cheek and thanks the waiter as he brings her order over. “So, girlfriend of mine, where are you taking me this weekend?” 

You like the way the word girlfriend rolls off her lips, the sweet undertones her raspy voice gives to it, the way her lips curl in a smirk as she looks at you. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You tease her, smirking right back at her. “Unfortunately, I’m not telling and you’ll just have to wait for… Saturday?” 

“Six?” 

“Saturday, six pm.” You finish and try to, as subtly as possible, slip your arm around her shoulder, grinning sheepishly when she looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “I do have one question though.” 

“Hmm?” She hums, leaning into you even further, softly nosing your neck. 

“How does italian sound?” 

She pulls back just enough to look at you, lips curled in a wide smile.

“Just perfect.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> times flies when you're falling in love :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, last chapter?   
> Afraid so. Enjoy it my darlings!

“Whoa, didn’t expect this many people here tonight.” You mumble, more to yourself than anyone really, pretty sure none of your friends have heard you until Anya bumps your shoulder with a sly smirk.

“C’mon, you’ve played for more.” 

“Yeah Lex, this is nothing.” Lincoln adds, smiling at you, his arms swung around Octavia’s shoulders as you all make your way to the booth you usually occupy while at Grounders. 

Gustus gives you a small nod when he notices you and his eyes quickly trail to your guitar case, followed by the smallest of smiles you can see on his lips. He doesn’t smile too often, you’ve come to realize, and when he actually does it feels extra special. Something about it makes you feel proud and warm in your chest. 

It’s only when Clarke leans into you and her arms winds its way around your waist that you remember you’ve actually got your arm around her shoulders and you’re taken back to the moment and the now, smiling when her fingers press into your side and she tilts her head up, lips brushing softly over your chin.

“Nervous?” She murmurs, quiet enough only for you to hear. 

“Yeah.” You murmur, meeting her eyes before you catch her lips in a soft kiss, one far too short for your liking because Raven clears her throat, quite dramatically in her typical Raven-like way, making gagging noises at you.

“Oh my god are you twelve?” Clarke asks, promptly flipping her off and snuggling her way next to you as you sit down and put your guitar on the other side. 

“You two are gross, I’m just sparing my eyes.” Raven fake-grumbles, smirking when Anya sits beside her and you watch in amusement as they shift closer together, trying hard to be as inconspicuous about it as possible. 

It takes a little while for a waitress to come by, what with the crowd and all, but eventually you all order your drinks just as Lincoln and Octavia join the four of you and somehow you manage to fit in the booth, if a little crammed there. But you figure you’ll be leaving for the stage soon enough anyway so you don’t really worry about the lack of space, they’ll just readjust anyway.

The place seems to only get busier as the evening progresses and by the time you’ve been there for about an hour, you can’t really see from the booth to the entrance anymore. You only barely manage to see Gus giving you a look from the bar and you nod at him, grabbing your guitar and kissing Clarke before you’re shimmying your way out and towards the stage. 

“Man, there sure is a lot of people here tonight.” You murmur as soon as you reach the stage and plug in the chord into your guitar, grinning in front of the microphone as you sit down on the lone chair set on the small makeshift stage. “Hi everyone, welcome to Grounders!” 

The patrons of bar seem to react to that, finally noticing that someone’s actually stepped on the stage as the murmurs subside just slightly and someone shuts off the stereo. 

“My name is Lexa and I’ll be your entertainment tonight.” You say, glancing around the place, noticing a couple familiar faces here and there that you remember from your nights at Grounders. “Or at least I’ll try to be.” You chuckle, plucking a few silent chords as the murmurs begin again. “No worries though, nothing too loud, just a little live background music. Enjoy.” 

As soon as you say that you begin strumming a soft tune, something you used to play whenever Anya and Lincoln would make you get up here on this stage, a gentle song that’s always been one of those go-to songs to play and get yourself, and your audience, in a soft, slightly mellow mood on a calm, breezy Friday night.

 

_ I am at ease in the arms of a woman, _

_ Although now most of my days i spend alone _

_ A thousand miles from the place i was born _

_ But when she wakes me she takes me back home _

 

As you sing out the rest, you look to Clarke almost instinctively, without any real, coherent thought in your mind but somehow, something… Something pulls you towards her, to her eyes, to the bright wide smile you manage to see even in the darkened space of the bar. And you know Anya will tease you endlessly and Raven’s probably making more gagging noises but all that has already faded away because of that single smile that Clarke has been giving you all this time. 

You don’t really remember how you’ve played the song till the end, the words coming to you naturally, from memory and somewhere deeper within and by the time you realize you’re playing the last chords a couple of people have already started clapping and the atmosphere in the whole place definitely feels a little different now. 

A good different.

After the first song everything else seems to shift a little and chords just keep on flowing for you. You catch Clarke’s gaze here and there and you almost miss the strings or forget your words whenever your eyes meet hers because she’s giving you a look, something you’ve caught a couple of times but have yet to decipher. It’s a warm gaze, affectionate and steady and it makes you feel things you thought were long lost on you. 

Gus hasn’t asked you to play all night, just a set or two to appease the crowd and make the night a little less dull, and as you go through your usual go-to playlist, touching up on the softies, as Anya likes to call them, you notice how everyone has gone back to whatever they were doing before you started playing, only occasionally sparing you a glance or two. Just the way you like it, really. 

At some point you almost forget about your friends, lost in Clarke’s eyes and the way she literally pays them no attention as she stares shamelessly at you, and when you actually do mess up the words, glancing around only to realize nobody’s noticed, you just shrug your shoulders and grin when Clarke rolls her eyes at you. 

You finish the set with some John Mayer, much to the joy of a group of girls sitting at the booth closest to the stage, and as you leave your guitar up there and slowly make your way down one of them approaches you, drink in one hand and glancing over her shoulder at her friends before she finally reaches you.

“That was amazing!” She says, reaching out with her hand. “I’m Jenny.”

You hesitate for a moment, never having really been the one to do this whole random meetup-hookup thing, especially not with Clarke sitting just a couple of booths away, but still you reach out and shake her hand for a short moment, smiling sheepishly.

“Thanks.” You say, not really sure what else to add but she seems to gravitate closer with each passing second, no matter how awkward you must seem. “I should get go-”

“Do you wanna come sit with us? We’ve got a booth right over here.” She points over her shoulder and her friends all seem to look up at you at the same time. Not awkward at all.

“That’s really nice of you but I’m actually here with my-” 

“Awwh, come on, just a couple of minutes?” 

“I’m sorry but-”

“Hey babe.” 

You whip your head around to the sound of the familiar voice you’ve been craving to hear again ever since you got up on the stage and as you meet Clarke’s eyes just as her arms slip around your waist and she leans into you, you’re pretty sure there’s a glint in her eyes that you’ve not seen before.

She presses her lips to your cheek before you even have a chance to react and when she nuzzles it right afterwards, you  _ know _ something’s definitely up.

“Oh hi, I didn’t know Lexa-”

“Sorry Jenny, this is my lovely girlfriend Clarke.” You manage to mumble out, sliding an arm around Clarke’s shoulder. “As I was saying, I should get back to our table but thanks for the compliment.” 

“Uh, sure, yeah, have fun.” Jenny says and quickly hurries back to her booth as Clarke’s hold on your waist loosens slightly.

“What was all that about?” You ask, grinning at her when she slips her hand into yours and tugs you towards your booth. 

“I just figured you could use rescuing.” Clarke says it so easily you think you’d even let it pass, if not for that glint still present in her eyes.

“You sure it was just that?” 

Clarke swivels around so fast you barely manage to stop yourself from crashing into her as you’re mid step, clumsily coming to a stop just inches away from her face as she grins up at you.

“Maybe I was a bit jealous.” She says, winding her arms up around your neck, seemingly unaware - or not really caring - of literally everyone around you. “I mean, have you seen yourself today? Or any day for that matter?” 

You don’t even bother hiding the blush and pretending like she hasn’t just gotten you to swoon with those words. You do lean in though, finally connecting your lips and kissing her soundly as your arms find their way around her waist and you tug her close, until your bodies are pressed together and she hums into the kiss.

“You’ve nothing to be jealous about, Clarke.” You say when you pull back, smiling softly. “I’m yours.” 

If she were any further away, you’d miss the little hitch in her breathing and the way her lips fall slightly more open. 

“I only really have eyes for you. Been like this for a while now. But you know that already, no?” You add, teasing her just a little to see that adorable eye roll and how she bites her lip before capturing your lips once again and kissing you deeply before she finally pulls back and grabs your hand again, entwining your fingers with hers and tugging you towards the booth.

“Come on, our friends are being horrible to me and I need you to shoulder the weight of their friendship with me.” 

The laughter that spills from your lips is proof enough that Clarke makes you happier than you’ve been in a long, long time. In fact, you feel so elated and genuinely good that the rest of the evening literally flies by without you even noticing how late it is until everyone’s heads start drooping, both from the alcohol and how tired they are.

* * *

 

Your first “official” date with Clarke goes great. 

No, far better than great, really. 

You get to do everything you’d hoped to when you first thought how lovely it would be to take Clarke out on a date and the evening is as wondrous as you’d imagined. The dinner goes smoothly and Clarke not only likes the restaurant but it actually turns out she knows the owner so not only do you get the best table but the meal is specially made by their head chef and the fact that Clarke can’t stop smiling all through it makes you feel like floating over the clouds. 

Turns out, Clarke knows a fair bit more about the city than you do, but you still end up surprising her when, after dinner, you take a short walk through a park she’s never been to before. You take her dancing afterwards, to a fairly large bar that could easily pass as a club, with a band playing some old classics that you both know and sing to. It’s not until the third slow song that you finally kiss her, deeply, as her arms finally find their way around your shoulders and you pull her close to yourself as you simply sway to the music, entranced and somewhat lost in her presence. 

It’s the best kind of thing to lose yourself in.

In the end, the song feels too short for how long you wanted to have her so close to you but as if reading your thoughts, what you realize she has a knack for, she tugs your hand and pulls you to a secluded, unoccupied corner and presses you hard against the wall, her lips finding your immediately. It’s a kiss unlike any you’ve shared so far and something within your burns through your skin when her fingers tangle in your hair and her tongue grazes over yours. 

You don’t think you ever want the evening to end.

So going back to yours isn’t even a choice, it’s a decision you’ve both clearly agreed upon ages ago and when you’re finally sitting in the cab, with her thigh pressed to yours and her fingers fiddling with your own, you realize this is something you’ve been craving for months and if you don’t feel her bare skin against your own soon, you might actually burst.

Thankfully, the streets are empty at this time of night and the cab driver has the decency to take the shortest route there, clearly aware of your longing glances and laced fingers that don’t let go even as you leave the car. You don’t bother checking how much money you give him, surely quite a fair bit more than you were supposed to pay but in your haste you simply thank him hurriedly and slip the money in his hand as Clarke tugs on your arm and pulls you towards the building entrance.

The elevator ride is filled with so much tension and if it were any longer, you’re pretty sure you’d just take her right then and there, eager and hungry to taste every inch of her skin on your tongue. But it’s merely three floors and as soon as the familiar  _ ding _ signifies you’ve reached your floor you squeeze her hand and all but drag her out the second the doors open, nearly skipping to your flat.

As soon as you step inside after Clarke and close the door behind you, she slams you hard against them, hands rushing back into your hair, fingers tangling through your curls as she tugs, her blunt nails dragging over your scalp as her lips mesh against your own. You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty for something other than water. 

You don’t really walk to your room, not really when your hands slip beneath her legs and you lift her up, grinning when she lets out a little squeal in surprise, only to kiss you harder in response as she wraps her legs around your waist and her arms come to rest around your shoulders.

“You’re freakishly strong.” She murmurs between kisses.

You only kiss her in response, not wanting to waste time with words when all you really want to be doing is kissing her, now and ten minutes later, and hours later and possibly all night. Tomorrow as well. And the day after that.

In a month. 

In a year.

Realization hits you so hard you actually stumble slightly in your steps, just crossing the threshold of your bedroom, and Clarke pulls back for a moment, hands cupping your cheeks as she looks at you curiously.

“You alright there?” She murmurs, thumbs grazing softly under your eyes.

“I’m falling in love with you.” 

You couldn’t have stopped the words from tumbling out even if you wanted to. They come out so naturally, so inevitably, and with them any and all weight on your shoulders dissipates, doubts seem so meager and insignificant and the butterflies in your stomach have overflown your whole being, dancing to the tune of your thundering heart. It’s exhilarating and different, scary even and yet, with every passing second your heart fills with warmth and you feel better, even as you watch Clarke’s eyes widen in shock, even as her lips fall open and she all but startles back, her palms pressing slightly tighter against your cheeks.

“I…” She starts, her voice cracking slightly as she takes in a deep breath before you catch the corner of her lips turning up in a smirk, one that fills you with hope. “Good. That’s good.” She mumbles and kisses your fiercely, hands moving back into your hair as she tugs tangles her fingers through it. “Good because I’m falling in love with you too.” 

Her words are accompanied by the warmest smile you’ve ever seen, one you know you’d love to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life. It’s silly, how soon you’ve come to feel this way but there isn’t a single speck of doubt in your mind that every one of these emotions is real. 

It’s the last coherent thing you hear before you all but tumble into your bed as you set her down and follow right after, holding yourself up as her hands wander down your arms, down your sides, lower and lower until she grabs you by your backside and tugs you in, pressing your bodies close again. 

Words seem to fail you both after that, or at least anything more coherent and complicated than grunts and moans and a number of breathy “ _ more, harder, there.”  _ You lose count after the second time she makes you see stars, this time with her tongue, and god,  **she’s good** . Even if you could come by some words to describe how she made you feel, how good it was to let go and completely lose yourself in pleasure, in her. 

You don’t let her rest. Not even a couple of minutes, not until she’s begging you through laughter and giggles because she can’t possibly take a second longer and her stomach rumbles somewhere in the dead of the night. It’s the most adorable thing you’ve experienced and is suddenly invigorating yet again when she strolls out of your bedroom in nothing but the button-up you wore on your date and comes back with a plate of fruits and some cookies she clearly rummaged for in your cupboards. 

And you see a future right then and there.  

It doesn’t take long until you’re pulling her under the blankets again and you don’t really know when you fall asleep, all you know is that it’s behind soft, smooth blonde hair and with a warm, tender body pressed up to your front, your arm slung gently around her waist and her breathing shallow and steady, much like your own. 

When you do finally wake up, somewhere around noon the next day - or the same, really - it’s only when Anya’s voice rings through the apartment, loud and oddly cheery, until it becomes a shrill scream right at the doorstep of your room.

“Jesus Lexa, cover up!” 

But it’s immediately followed by a sleepy ‘ _ huh’  _ and Clarke’s confused, sleepy eyes that switch from you to Anya, and to Raven - Raven?! - until laughter bubbles out of her and yeah.

 

You remember the future you saw. You remember it clear as day. 

And it’s a future you can’t wait to live. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that, my lovelies! Let me know what you thought and as always hola @kittymannequin on tumblr :)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this stuck in my head for a while now. The slow burn won't be that slow though, our girls deserve to be happy together. 
> 
> Will be updated once a month.  
> Additional tags might be added, rating will be changed accordingly.
> 
> Throw some comments at me, I love reading them and replying.  
> Come say hi on tumblr: kittymannequin


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